The Long Goodbye
by wildfire280
Summary: Collection of one-shots featuring Detective Joss Carter. Review and suggest songs/prompts for future chapters. Current chapter: Based on Leona Lewis's "I Got You" and the episode "Bad Code".
1. Angel With A Shotgun

**Author's Note: **Well this is my first time writing for Person of Interest. I'm a huge fan of the show (and of the Carter/Reese ship) so this has been coming for a while. Send in your prompts/song suggestions and I'll do my best to write a one-shot for you. This chapter is based on "Angel With A Shotgun" by The Cab. Special thanks goes out to quietfireca for creating that awesome video on Youtube. I would never have known about this incredible song without it.

**_Get out your guns, battle's begun,_**

**_Are you a saint or a sinner? _**

**The Library**

**2:07PM**

John sat down in Harold's usual place in front of the computer screens and watched the other man take down photos of their latest POI from the large glass pane. "That wasn't as easy as it could have been." He rolled his right shoulder up and back, wincing at the pain in his muscles. It had been a long four days.

Harold turned his entire body to glance at him before continuing with his work. "Although Detective Fusco has proven himself to be quite the ally in the field as of late…I will be the first to admit that Joss and her skills are missed."

"Joss?" One of John's dark eyebrows quirked upward in surprise and amusement while his eyes seemed to darken at the mention of her name.

"Pardon me, Mr. Reese. Detective Carter," Harold corrected himself tensely. It was hard to determine when it was he had ceased to think of Jocelyn Carter simply as an invaluable asset.

John lowered his gaze to the main screen. One of the four boxes of surveillance featured there was focused on Carter's desk at the station. It was currently unoccupied. He briefly looked at all of the feeds from the stations' cameras as though she would be seen but she was nowhere in sight. In fact, Carter had been nowhere in sight for about three months. "How is she?"

"She's keeping her distance."

"Clearly."

Silence fell as Harold pulled down a bank statement that had proved that their POI was the perpetrator, hired to murder his employer's best friend. He could feel John's eyes boring holes into his back. Finally, he sighed. "I believe Fusco mentioned something about Detective Carter's relationship with the narcotics officer deterring the FBI from hiring her. It's a shame. She would make an excellent agent." He still remembered the not-well-hidden excitement in the woman's voice while she worried about taking the polygraph test.

"Why would the Bureau care if she's dating Beecher?"

"I'm afraid Cal Beecher happens to be the subject of several investigations." John straightened in his chair so suddenly that Harold turned to face him. "We cannot get involved, Mr. Reese. Not now. They will be monitoring her very closely for the next few…"

"Is she in danger?"

"The Machine doesn't seem to think so. Fusco is keeping a close eye on the situation. Physically, she should be out of harm's way."

"And _not_ physically, Finch?"

Finished with his task, Harold looked at John pointedly until he relinquished his seat. John went to stand on the other side of the table. "Detective Carter has not yet dealt with the events of three months ago. It was an emotional time for her, from being arrested by Agent Donnelly to having to leave you to die, perhaps the first time in her impressive career that she left a man behind. Her current anger and frustration are understandable and quite justified." Seeing the way John's blue eyes narrowed, he softly cleared his throat. "At least in my opinion."

John crossed his arms against his chest, wordlessly peering down at him. Should he have reached out? For what purpose? Carter knew from the beginning that he was a dead man walking. He still remembered the surprise he had felt when she had grasped onto his arm that night, refusing to let him commit an explosive act of self-sacrifice. Dead man walking. She should have known it was part of the job.

After he and Harold had come down from the roof and onto the street where hordes of people were standing around gasping at the billows of smoke still coming from Kara's car, he half-expected Carter to be standing there in front of the building, waiting to see that he was alright. He wanted her to know he was safe. Harold had rushed him along but not before he caught sight of her petite figure and heard her giving orders to several officers to get the crowd back. Back to work. That was expected. But back to those days after Leila's case when she had zero contact with them? He hadn't anticipated that.

At a sudden thought, John unfolded his arms to set his hands flat on the table's surface and lean forward. "Whose idea was it for Carter to keep her distance from me? Hers or yours?"

"Regardless of who _made_ the choice. Mr. Reese, you have to admit it is the safest…"

"So it was your idea then."

Harold met his eyes with his usual impassive gaze despite the fact that John's voice had deepened into a low growl. "Detective Carter is in total agreement with me. The FBI will be monitoring her quite closely now and communication with you, their Man in the Suit who is now believed to be dead, would be…inconvenient for her to say the least."

John scoffed. "I can contact Carter without the FBI picking up on it."

"Pardon me for saying so but the last time you thought you could communicate with Carter without FBI scrutiny, Agent Donnelly arrested the both of you." Again, Harold's gaze returned to his screens.

John opened his mouth to respond but was stopped by the sudden ringing of his phone. He shoved his hand into his coat's pocket with a glare. "This conversation isn't over, _Harold_."

"It is for me, Mr. Reese."

He practically cracked his phone's screen with the force by which he pressed Talk. "What is it, Fusco?"

"Hey Wonderboy, we've got ourselves a bit of a problem here."

**_If love's a fight, then I shall die,_**

**_With my heart on the trigger._**

**_They say before you start a war, _**

**_You better know what you're fighting for._**

**Somewhere In New York City **

**2:13PM**

Joss winced as she was unceremoniously pushed down onto a cement floor. Her surroundings made dark due to the heavy cloth bag on her head; she listened closely to the sounds of the men who had taken her as they discussed how to deal with the nosy detective who had stuck her nose too far into HR's business. Everything was echoing. Large, expansive room, possibly a warehouse of some kind. They had only been driving for thirty minutes at most. She racked her brain for all warehouses that distance away from her apartment.

The bag was yanked from her head so suddenly that her entire body fell back but she was quickly righted. She took a deep breath of stale air and glowered up at the two men glowering right back down at her. Their faces were familiar to her. They had been there the night that Don Basile was shot. They'd abandoned her on Elias' orders. Or was it HR's orders? Sometimes it was hard to know which trash called the trash. "McNeil…Valdez. Are you two upstanding officers of the law still doing a crime boss's dirty work?"

Valdez raised a hand to slap her, and she relaxed her jaw in anticipation. McNeil grabbed his arm. "Let the bitch say what she wants. You know Quinn wants her unharmed."

Valdez jerked away with a nod. "Fine. But watch what you say around her."

Quinn? Joss furrowed her brows. As in Alonzo Quinn? "The mayor's chief of staff?" The two men glanced at each other and then stared at her, uneasiness showing in their faces despite their glares. "Why the hell would the mayor's chief of staff want you two goons to kidnap _me_?"

"Because the mayor's chief of staff is my godfather. And I want to keep you safe."

Her entire body tensed at the sound of Cal's voice. "I should have known," she muttered under her breath as he came walking up from behind her.

His gaze scanned her body for any injuries. "I know what you're thinking, Jocelyn. You think we're just a bunch of corrupt cops. You think we're the bad guys." Cal shook his head. "It's not really that simple."

Joss raised an eyebrow, unable to stop the cynical smirk that came across her lips. "Actually it is."

**Queensboro Bridge**

**2:32PM**

"…And then I get a call from this lady, yelling and screaming about how Carter's been taken. After I got her to stop blowin' out my eardrum, she explains that she's a CI and the reason why Carter left the precinct early this afternoon. The lady was supposed to meet Carter at the basketball court across from her apartment. She saw the whole thing. Carter left the apartment, walked three steps down the sidewalk and got dragged into a car at gunpoint."

John nodded. "Did she see anything else?"

"Yeah." Lionel turned to look at him and Harold with a sigh. "They were cops. She said she'd been busted by both of them once upon a time. Recognized them immediately."

Finch looked out across the East River. "There's no telling where she's been taken. I can't track the signal on her phone which means they've probably taken it and turned it off."

"So you're saying we just wait for her body to show up?"

John angled his body toward Lionel. "We're going to find her. Alive. We just have to wait for her to tell us where she is."

"How's she supposed to do that without a phone?"

"Carter's a lot more resourceful than you think. She'll figure something out."

Lionel let out an incredulous snort but paused before making a snarky comment, instead taking in the unusual expression on the taller man's face. There were many things he still didn't know about John Reese, but one thing he did know was that Reese cared about Detective Joss Carter more than he would probably ever admit. He gave a wry smile and walked away from the railing, making his way back to the precinct.

**_Sometimes to win, you've got to sin,_**

**_Don't mean I'm not a believer_**

**_…and Major Tom will sing along_**

**_Yeah, they still say I'm a dreamer_**

Cal gestured to someone behind her and Joss heard the sound of a chair being dragged forward. Grasping her arm, he gently pulled her to stand. "That floor's pretty uncomfortable to kneel on. Why don't you take a seat?"

She glanced at the chair, looked the man who had brought over it, and then slowly sank down. "What is this about, Beecher? Why am I here?"

He frowned at her use of his last name but acquiesced. "I'm really sorry about the FBI, Jocelyn. I know how much you've wanted a position in the Bureau, and if I had known that they would turn you down because you're dating me…"

"Because I _dated_ you," Joss interrupted. She sighed at the hurt look on his face. "Come on now, I think it's safe to say we're done."

Cal looked as though he wanted to argue that point but instead he simply continued. "The Bureau is tracking you pretty closely right now. That's not good news for you and it's certainly not good news for your gun-happy friend." Her eyes widened, and he nodded. "We weren't expecting it to be so easy to convince them that the rogue CIA agent was the legendary Man in the Suit himself but at that point they were so sick of hearing about it from Donnelly, they'd believe anything. Case is closed for them. Not for us."

Joss lowered her gaze to the floor, attempting to slow her now-racing heartbeat. "What do you want with the Man in the Suit?"

"It's not really me. It's HR. I just help out when I can."

"Fine. What does _HR_ want with the Man in the Suit? And damn it Beecher, don't play games with me. Just answer the question."

"To put it simply…" Cal began to pace in front of her. "HR wants your man dead. Really dead this time. And, Jocelyn, we know he's got a soft spot for you. It was about a year ago that he stopped Elias from killing you, wasn't it? The cop-killer saving the cop. Took everyone by surprise."

Her gaze rose to meet his sharply. "What did you just say?"

Cal chuckled. "For a beautiful lady who knows just how beautiful she is, you sure are oblivious when a man wants you."

Joss almost stood up and strangled him in frustration. "Believe me, I'm not his type. What did you say about cops?" McNeil stepped forward, brandishing two photographs from his jacket. She only glanced at them for a moment before whispering, "Stills and Davidson. You're telling me the Man in the Suit…you're telling me he killed them?" She shook her head firmly. "No. It was a cop."

"It was the Man in the Suit. Trust me, Jocelyn. He's killed enough of our people for us to know when it's him or not." Cal reached out to touch her hair but Joss recoiled and shoved his hand away. Valdez reached for his gun; Cal held out a hand to calm him. "You know, one of the things I love about you is your ability to see that it's not always black and white. The good guy doesn't always do good things. The seemingly bad guy might have the best intentions. Whether you believe it or not, HR is taking back this city to make it better."

Get back into the conversation. Stop gaping at them all like you're so shocked. Joss blinked twice. "I've heard that spiel before, Beecher. From Elias. No wonder you people work so well together." She gave her head another firm shake as if to jolt herself away from the rapid-fire thought that were filling her mind. "What do you want with me? Want me to lead you to the Man in the Suit? I wouldn't know where he is."

"We figured as much. We've been trailing you for weeks now, Jocelyn, and he's been keeping his distance." Cal held out a hand and McNeil placed a sheet of paper in it. "There's a five o'clock flight out of New York to Saint Petersburg. You're gonna be on it."

Her jaw dropped. "Saint Petersburg…Russia? You're sending me to Russia? That's ridiculous."

"It's good for business. We know your friend relies on you to get intel on HR and we can't afford to have you ruining our plans to get rid of him. Besides, our allies in Russia will treat you kindly. They've already procured housing for you and a tutor in the Russian language."

"How…sweet." Joss clenched her fists by her sides, her fingernails dug painfully into the palms of her hands. She had to channel her energy and keep thinking rationally. "What about Taylor?"

Cal shrugged. "He'll be sent to live with your mother. We'll tell him that you've been given an assignment in Russia. I'm sure he'll understand. Taylor's used to not having you around anyway."

Oh that was it. Joss stood quickly and took a step toward Cal, uncaring of the sound of three guns being pulled on her. "You son of a…!"

Valdez grabbed one of her shoulders in a tight grip and pushed her to sit again, his gun pressing into her ribs. She raised her hands in submission. "At least…let me call him. Let _me_ tell him that I'll be gone. He deserves to hear it from me."

The men looked to Cal; he narrowed his eyes. "Why should we trust you with a phone?"

"She doesn't know where we are, Cal," McNeil said, producing his own cellphone. "And the kid probably doesn't even know we took her. He's probably still in school. Wouldn't have time to contact anyone at the precinct."

Joss nodded. "Let me talk to my kid, Cal."

After searching her face for a moment, he took McNeil's phone and slowly handed it to her. "I won't stop Valdez from shooting you, Jocelyn. Don't mess this up."

Valdez reluctantly stepped back from her; she dialed the number that she had memorized a long time ago and lifted the phone to her ear. "Trust me. I won't."

"Put it on speakerphone."

**The Library**

**3:21PM**

Harold looked from the ringing phone to John with a frown. "It would seem we were right to reroute Taylor Carter's calls to your phone. However, it's quite out of HR's coldhearted nature to allow a kidnapped mother to contact her son."

"Joss is probably a very persuasive kidnapped mother." John began to press Talk and then paused. "This is what we've been waiting for. Are you ready to track the phone's signal?"

"Yes, Mr. Reese." Harold settled his hands lightly on top of his keyboard in anticipation.

John answered the call, took a breath before speaking, but was interrupted by Joss.

"Hey baby, sorry to call you in school. Don't say anything, okay? Just let me talk."

**_I'm an angel with a shotgun, fighting 'til the war's won_**

**_I don't care if Heaven won't take me back_**

**_I'd throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe_**

**Warehouse **

**Greenpoint, Brooklyn**

**4:30PM**

"Why the hell did you come here?" Joss kicked McNeil's Beretta further away from the officer's prostrate body, kneeling quickly beside him to check his pulse before standing and leveling a frustrated glare at John. He had entered the warehouse five minutes earlier, guns blazing and making short work of both McNeil and Valdez. Once he threw her a gun, she took care of the third officer. Beecher had scurried off like the little rat he was before either of them could take a shot at him. No doubt Alonso Quinn had already received a call informing him of what had happened.

"There's just no pleasing you, is there, Carter?" John strode over to her. "Let me guess, the correct response to hearing a man punch you in the face during a fake phone conversation with your teenage son was to…?"

"They _wanted_ you to come for me. There was a reason why I called my son instead of you."

John bent to grab McNeil's Beretta. Contrary to what Harold believed, one could never have enough Berettas in their closet of weapons. "Did you want Taylor to call us?"

"No."

"Then how were you planning to get out of here? That chokehold you had Valdez in was impressive but I can't imagine what you were going to do next."

Joss harrumphed softly. "I've been in tough spots before without a knight in shining armor to come rescue me, John. I wanted to call Taylor just in case but…did you really think I would let HR ship me off to Russia without some kind of fight?"

He found himself reaching out to touch the bruise that was starting to darken on her jawline, then found himself smiling inwardly when she didn't recoil. "I told you you'd never be alone, Carter. I meant that."

She closed her eyes, feeling the tension that had been building for the past four hours finally release. "You have good intentions. Sometimes you don't go about it the right way." Her eyes snapped open as she remembered Cal's words. "Did you have good intentions when you killed Stills and Davidson? Were they murdered in cold blood or did you have a reason behind what you did?"

He pulled back his hand as though her skin had suddenly shocked him and took a few steps back as her gaze hardened. Beecher must have told her. John silently cursed. He was going to tell her, in his own way, in his own time. Finch had warned him a while back that she was investigating the two officers' homicides but he hadn't thought about it since then. "Stills and Davidson were corrupt."

"Too corrupt to be tried by the justice system?"

"Stills was going to attack an Assistant District Attorney and his innocent son."

"And Davidson?"

"Davidson was seconds away from putting a bullet in your partner's skull."

So Fusco had known all the while who was responsible. Joss tilted her head to the side and sighed. It was somewhat of a relief to know that he hadn't been about to confess to Davidson's murder that afternoon in the interrogation room.

John watched emotions of confusion and relief play out on the detective's expressive face. "I thought you'd prefer I didn't let Fusco get shot. As for Stills…you've always said that a life saved is a life saved, no matter the circumstances." He motioned toward the warehouse entrance. "You gonna start chasing me again? Could I at least get a head start?"

She released a short, humorless chuckle. "I think I've chased you enough for a lifetime, John. Besides..." The wry smile on her face disappeared so suddenly that he took a step toward her and grasped her arm. "Chasing you always seems to lead to a body count and now HR knows for sure that you're alive. They'll be looking for you."

"You could've died because you wanted to protect me." John glanced out toward his car parked haphazardly outside of the warehouse. "There's one thing you should never forget, Carter. I'm a dead man walking and…"

The palm of her hand collided with an echoing smack against the side of his face as soon as he turned back to face her. Joss shook out her hand and began walking to the car. "Let's get out of here. Last thing I need right now is another stand-off with HR officers."

John stood for a moment staring at her retreating figure before catching up with a few long strides. "Something you wanna get off your chest, Carter?"

"Nothing that I can think of, no." She jerked open the passenger door and slid inside without another word.

He raised his brows and closed the door, quickly getting in and starting up the car. "Finch told me you've been a little on edge since…"

"Since you tried to blow yourself up on top of a roof."

"You know, I wasn't really _trying_ to blow up, Carter. It was inevitable at that point."

"No. No it wasn't." Joss angled her body so she could face him. "I could've disarmed that vest, John."

He held up a hand from the wheel. "You could've _tried_ to disarm the vest. You could've tried and succeeded but you also could've tried, failed, and left Taylor an orphan." John took his eyes off of the side street they were driving on to search her face. "You weren't thinking clearly. The idea that no man gets left behind can't apply to me."

"Because I have to be prepared to leave you behind one day."

That wasn't a question. Maybe she was finally getting it. He nodded and again devoted his attention to the road. "One day I'll be gone. And you'll miss me dearly."

She narrowed her eyes. "Won't."

"You will, Detective. But until that day…" Without turning, he reached out to hold her hand in his own. "You won't have to watch me walk away from you again."

Joss looked down at their interlocking hands. "We're supposed to be keeping our distance from each other, you know."

" 'Cause we're just so good at that."

**_They say before you start a war,_**

**_You'd better know what you're fighting for._**

**Be sure to review and send in prompts! **


	2. Settle Down

**Author's Notes: **Thank you for the reviews! I have a ton of ideas for future chapters but I'm always open to any prompts you may have. This chapter is based on "Settle Down" by Kimbra and is an alternative version of the events in the episode "The High Road". I've always wondered how things would have been different if John had asked Joss to accompany him instead of Zoe Morgan. Enjoy!

**_I wanna settle down_**

**_It's time to bring you down_**

**_On just one knee for now_**

**_Let's make our vows_**

**The Campbell Home**

**2827 Peach Blossom St. **

**Far Rockaway, New York**

Joss swung her bag off of her shoulder to land on the floor while John answered his ringing phone. He smirked and placed it on the kitchen island between them, making sure it was on speaker. "Miss me already, Harold?"

"Actually I called to thank Detective Carter again for offering her services. I'm sure she had much better things to do."

"Oh, like my _job_?" Joss rolled her eyes and sank down into one of the tall chairs pushed against the island. Bear circled her legs until she gave him a satisfying scratch behind his ears. "I'm still waiting for the day that you two take that into account but you're welcome, Finch." She eyed John as he turned away to open and close a cabinet above the stove. "I'll try to make sure John here doesn't blow up the block."

He shrugged, taking a seat beside her. "We'll see what happens. Right now our main concern is to figure who Graham Wyler really is."

"Agreed. Any ideas on how to become the Wylers' new best friends?" There was a bit of laughter in Harold's voice. No doubt he was thinking about John's usual tactics on instigating friendships. Joss had once complained to him about the crossbow-on-the-bed incident while they were researching for Root's origin in Texas.

"We'll visit Wyler at his store and tell him we just moved across the street. Once we've established contact, we'll be able to manipulate the family into…"

John pulled out his Glock at a sudden chiming sound, causing Joss to pull out her Beretta. She held up a hand after a beat of silence. "Doorbell."

He nodded. "I've got to get used to that."

"Not many people visit your apartment?" She put away her weapon and inclined her head toward the door. "Come on. Let's not shoot any Girl Scouts. I could actually go for some Samoas right now."

**_One Day Earlier_**

**Lyric's Diner**

_Joss raised an eyebrow as John slid a familiar square piece of paper across the table for her perusal. "Parking ticket for loitering in a no-parking zone, huh? I'm surprised you haven't gotten one before now."_

_ He was less amused by the situation. "I can't watch out for someone if I can't tail them, Carter, and I can't tail someone in the suburbs."_

_ "Sounds like you need to find a better way to watch them then." _

_ Harold nodded, jerkily raising his hand to get their waitress's attention for a tea refill. "John's Man in the Suit routine doesn't exactly work in areas like Far Rockaway. However, it just so happens that there's a quaint three-bedroom that's just gone on the market right across from Graham Wyler's home. You can move in tomorrow." _

_ Joss couldn't contain her laughter at the idea of John Reese masquerading in the suburbs. John raised his glass of water to his lips. "He's referring to you too, Detective."_

_ Her laughter immediately ceased. "Excuse me?"_

_ "You're going to be the Wylers' neighbors." Finch's voice actually sounded cheerful; he nodded a thank you at the waitress as she refilled his cup and scurried off again. "I've procured appropriate wardrobes for the both of you, a new vehicle, and a set of golf clubs. You'll fit right in as Mr. and Mrs. Campbell."_

_ John tilted his head to the side, his eyes sparkling. "What do you say, Carter? Wanna get married?"_

_ "Nope." She took one more sip of her coffee and opened her wallet to leave a few dollars as a tip. _

_ He caught her arm as she began to stand. "It'll be like a vacation."_

_ "No John, it'll be like a never-ending stakeout. With you. In the suburbs." Joss sighed and looked to Finch. "What about that fixer John likes so much?"_

_ "Miss Morgan is currently busy with a…"_

_ "I wanted to ask you," John interrupted. When she narrowed her eyes in suspicion, he shrugged. "We work well together, Carter."_

_ There was a part of her that was actually flattered. She bit her lower lip. Taylor would have to go spend time at her mother's. She'd have to convince Fusco to take over a few of her cases. "Fine." John lifted his hand from her arm and leaned back in the booth. "But I better get my own bed this time."_

**_Present-Day_**

**The Wyler Home**

**2828 Peach Blossom Street**

**Far Rockaway, New York**

"How long have you and Graham been living in Rockaway?"

Connie Wyler, Graham's wife, ran a hand through her red hair and gave a bright smile."About ten years. We moved here after my mother got sick. Came out to help with things."

Joss nodded sympathetically, setting her wine cooler on the small patio table and lowering a hand by her side to scratch behind Bear's ears. The military dog had been on his best behavior all afternoon, almost copying his master's eagerness to be accepted in the small neighborhood.

"What about you and John?" Smile broadening almost mischievously, Connie looked over at the grill where Graham and John were clinking their beers together. "How did you meet?"

"John's reputation for helping people preceded him. By the time we met, I was pretty eager to see him face to face."

Connie let her gaze travel from the two husbands to Joss's face, taking note of the way the other woman was looking at her spouse. There was loving exasperation in her eyes. Clearly, being married to John Campbell was an adventure. "Love at first sight, huh?"

Don't laugh. Don't laugh. Joss let out a loud bark of laughter that caused both men to glance over at them. Still feeling John's blue gaze on her, she cleared her throat. "It was _something_ at first sight." Connie chuckled.

She fought the urge to flinch in surprise when John suddenly appeared by her side and placed a hand on her shoulder. "And what are you two lovely ladies talking about?"

Connie smiled up at him. "Jocelyn was just telling me how you two met."

Between meeting the Wylers two minutes after moving in, arguing about who would eat the ambrosia, and preparing to attend the barbeque, they hadn't had time to properly fabricate any backstories. John took the remaining seat around the table, subtly moving the chair to be closer to the detective's. "Love for Joss hit me like…a gunshot to the abdomen. I just knew she was the one."

"Hey Connie, help me out with serving these burgers, will you?"

She glanced away from them to nod at Graham. "Be right back."

"Sure." Joss kept her eyes on Connie even as she muttered, "Gunshot to the abdomen. That's real clever, John."

"Thanks, Carter. Now how exactly did we meet?"

"Not sure. I left my answer vague. You help people. What did you tell Graham your occupation is?"

"I sell private security systems."

Joss grinned. "Close enough."

Graham's daughter Izzy emerged from inside the Wyler home; Bear perked up and looked up at John as if asking permission. He motioned toward the girl. "_Verder gaan_. Go ahead." The dog ran toward the girl who excitedly began to pet him.

John turned toward Joss, briefly admiring the way her caramel skin was accented by the long red cardigan sweater she wore. "By the way, you look nice."

She felt her cheeks warm as his gaze roved over her body. "Yeah, married, suburban life seems good for you too." His short-sleeve blue polo was the perfect match for his eyes albeit an unexpected look for him. She almost missed his crisp, stark white shirt and suit.

After a moment of silence between them, both of their eyes subtly scanning the Wyler's backyard, John leaned toward her. "It's kind of boring out here, don't you think?"

"It's the quiet life, John." It wasn't the life either of them had chosen, but she could easily see its charm. "Fresh air. No one shooting at each other. People getting together just to enjoy each other's company. We don't usually get to experience this."

"I can see why Graham would want this life. But it's not his. He's ghosting, taking advantage of a dead man's identity for a little over fifteen years now." John glanced over at the grill where Graham had returned to his post. "If I got a hold of one of those beer bottles, do you think Fusco could run a set of fingerprints through the system?"

Joss frowned, making sure to lower her voice even more to match John's whisper. "You really think we're dealing with a perpetrator here? Graham Wyler stole a good life to _live_ a good life. Why would he mess that up?"

"People make mistakes, Carter." John stood and prepared to go back to continue his conversation with Graham. "If I had to guess…he's just about due to make another one."

**The Campbell Home**

**2827 Peach Blossom Street**

**Far Rockaway, New York**

"You're lucky Graham decided to take you up on your offer to install the private security system, Mr. Reese." Harold brought up the surveillance for the Wylers' home on his laptop screen while John and Joss looked on from either side of him. "Alright, everything seems to be in working order. If Wyler's old crew attempts to get access to the house, we'll see them coming."

Joss shook her head, moving away to get a glass of water. Of course Graham had agreed to the security system. Who wouldn't take that extra measure of precaution after your car was set on fire? He had to be terrified for his family. After their kidnapping scare with Elias, she knew she always felt tense whenever Taylor was alone in the apartment after school.

A call from Fusco earlier that afternoon had revealed that Graham Wyler was the alias for a man formerly known as Lloyd Pruitt. His crew, Chris Vaughn and Daniel Burnside, wanted revenge for Lloyd abandoning them before a theft that garnered twelve years in prison. She still couldn't see him as a perpetrator.

John noticed her unease but chose not to comment on it. "Cops couldn't find a culprit for the car fire at the soccer game. Any ideas on what Vaughn and Burnside want with Graham?"

Harold shrugged. "He is an extremely skilled safecracker. As Lloyd Pruitt, he was a vital member of their crew. Perhaps they want to use him for one last job. No doubt we'll discover their motives when they meet with him this afternoon."

They could hear audio of raised voices and then Graham telling Connie that he was going into town for a few hours. John turned to Joss, but she was already reaching for the car keys. "Why don't we give Wyler a lift into town?"

He gave a nod toward Harold and followed her out the door. "You read my mind."

Meanwhile on the screen, Connie Wyler was sinking down into one of the cushioned seats on the back patio. Harold watched silently as she started to cry.

**Peter Dillion's Pub**

"…Next time we take something with a heartbeat."

John was grabbing his Glock from the waistband of his pants before the words were even out of Vaughn's mouth. Joss eyed him incredulously. "What are you doing?"

He picked up another semi-automatic from the car floor and just blinked at her. "First, they got in the house and took his daughter's necklace. Now they're threatening the family. We've gotta take them down."

"Uh, can you take it easy instead? It's broad daylight, John. We're two blocks away from my precinct. You start anything now and even cops on their donut break will be able to catch us."

"These guys need to go away from a long time, Carter."

"Then catch them in the act. Right now all we've got is _conspiracy_ to commit a crime and that's from an illegal wiretap. It won't hold up in court and it certainly won't be enough to keep Wyler or his family safe."

John unlocked his door and then finally paused in his movements. "Then I'll make it clear that they're never to come near the family again."

"And are you prepared to watch over the Wylers forever to make sure that happens? 'Cause that's all you'll be able to do if we reveal ourselves now."

He lowered his gaze for a moment before opening the door. She sighed and listened as Vaughn and Burnside told Graham to meet them at ten that night, watching John's actions through the rearview mirror. He placed something in the bed of their truck and got back in the car just as Graham's former crewmates returned. "It's a burner phone so we can track them." He finally met her gaze and she could see just how disappointed he was to have to back down.

She was just staring at him. John cleared his throat and started driving back toward the house, nervous under her sudden scrutiny. "…What?"

Joss shrugged, relaxing back in the passenger seat. "You listened to me. I'm surprised."

"I listen to you all the time, Carter." His lips turned upward in a crooked smile. "I just don't always do what you say."

She scoffed and looked out at the window. "Good to know."

**The Campbell Home**

**2827 Peach Blossom Street**

**Far Rockaway, New York**

No casework to catch up on. No television. No teenage son to nag about his homework. Joss glanced over her shoulder at John who was peering through the blinds of a nearby window at the Wyler home. "So what now?"

"We wait for Graham to make his decision whether or not to join Vaughn and Burnside at the heist. Finch is monitoring all views from the house so we know if he leaves. So…" He came to sit on the other side of the small kitchen table, lifting his arms to intertwine his fingers behind his head. It was probably the most relaxed she'd ever seen him. "I have no clue. Any ideas what these people would do for fun?"

"You see how many kids there were at that barbeque yesterday?" She raised an eyebrow meaningfully.

He winked at her. "I've always wanted kids. Think Taylor would make a good big brother?"

Joss decided to ignore the warmth that unexpectedly rushed throughout her body at his words, leaning forward to fold her arms on top of the table. When it came to men like John Reese, she had learned it was best to counter their lethal charm with confidence. "Sure he would. Think _you_ would make a good father?"

A little of the seduction on his face faded away into contemplation as John thought about her question. Her voice softened as she asked another question, "You really want to be a father one day, John?"

"I do understand that I want something that probably won't happen, Detective. Not with my past." He slowly lowered his arms. "Not with my lack of a future."

She opened her mouth to disagree, but he held up a hand and tapped his earpiece. "Finch, what've you got?"

"Mr. Reese, I'm afraid Wyler's made his decision. He seems to have left his home fifteen minutes ago. Avoided his own cameras. I was only just made aware because Connie is searching for him."

John met Joss's gaze, whispering, "Graham's meeting Vaughn for the heist."

Joss sighed. "I was really hoping he wouldn't do this."

John stood and began collecting his weapons from their places scattered throughout the kitchen. "His number's up. When Graham's done cracking that safe, Vaughn's got no reason to keep him alive."

"They've planned to rendezvous in a residential high-rise that belongs to Enver Clerik, a prominent gem dealer." Harold paused for a moment before continuing. "Perhaps it would be best if, while you were dealing with the crew, Detective Carter was prepared to divert the attentions of her fellow officers."

"Agreed. But she's not gonna like that, Finch."

"I'll get access to the apartment's security system and keep you informed. Be careful, Mr. Reese."

Joss had several questions in her eyes by the time John ended the communication. He placed over her Beretta and gave Bear a quick order to follow. "You ready to get back to the city?"

"Oh John, I thought you'd never ask."

**East 46****th**** Street**

** New York, New York**

Joss watched with a ghost of a smile as Graham Wyler calmly explained to two officers his part in the evening's ordeal; the two men looked at him with a combination of surprise and confusion. It wasn't every day that someone not even on their radar turned themselves in. She turned to a nearby officer, holding out her hand. "You all have this handled?"

He gave it a firm shake. "We've got this, Detective. Thanks for your assistance."

"No problem. Have a good night." She made her way further down the street and turned the corner. John stood leaning against the high-rise like she expected. Her eyes swept over his outfit with amusement. "What are you supposed to be? A chef?"

He unbuttoned the uniform to reveal his usual white shirt. "It's the uniform for a catering service if you must know. Thanks for clearing the stairwell for us."

"Happy to help as always," Joss deadpanned, watching him shrug out of the jacket and drape it over his arm. "I saw that Graham decided to turn himself in."

John nodded, glancing to the side as Harold pulled up alongside them. He had already collected Bear from the car they had rented; the dog happily panted at them. "He's done running. Connie knows the truth about his life as Lloyd Pruitt now. There's nothing left to hide."

Graham was living up to his identity as the better man. Happy to be right about him, Joss tilted her head to the side and motioned toward the car. "Well, unless you're planning to end _your_ life on the run, you'd better get out of here. There are officers everywhere."

"So this is the part where we get divorced?"

She chuckled softly, wrapping her arms around herself as a cool nightly breeze blew past them. "Sorry it didn't work out, John. At least it was fun while it lasted." She took two steps away and then paused, suddenly remembering their conversation from earlier that evening. "You know, John, this kind of life may not be it for you. Things can change. You think you don't have a future but maybe you do. And maybe in that future you get to live a quiet life, settle down...be a father."

His eyes were searching hers as if he couldn't believe she was being sincere. "Wouldn't that be interesting?"

"Yeah. It would be." Joss leaned forward to wave at Harold and blow a little kiss at Bear. "Have a good night, John. Do me a favor and don't contact me tomorrow. I'm taking the day off to spend time with Taylor. Let Fusco do some of your dirty work for a change."

"Whatever you say, Carter." He stepped forward to be able to watch her as she made her way down the street, not moving to join Harold in the car until she had turned another corner.

It was fun while it lasted.

**Please review and include any prompts you may have!**


	3. Won't Get Fooled Again

**Author's Note: **Whew. It took me a lot longer to post again thanks to a sudden, unfortunate case of writer's block. (All of these POI hiatuses certainly aren't helping). I decided to write this chapter to get myself back in the swing of things. It's a lot longer than I meant to be but I hope you like it. Based on "Won't Get Fooled Again" by The Who and the idea that Kara Stanton would not have just left Carter in the car in "Dead Reckoning".

_**We'll be fighting in the streets**_

_**With our children at our feet**_

_**And the morals that they worship will be gone**_

John stared straight ahead as Donnelly attached the other side of Joss's handcuffs to the grab bar above the SUV's window; only stealing a glance at her when the agent left to get into the driver's seat. She looked more comfortable in the situation than he'd expected. The anguish and fear that he had seen in her eyes on the bridge was replaced now by a still calmness. Did she still think he could get them out of this situation? Was she still putting her trust in him?

He clenched and unclenched his fist, glaring at the cold silver cuff around his wrist. They had been stupid and inexplicably forgotten how much danger they were in. Even now John could barely explain why he had made his way to the bridge after being released from Rikers. Maybe he wanted to see her face. Maybe he wanted her to see his face and know that he was alright, that they were going to be alright. But now she was going to lose everything.

Donnelly started the car, and they quickly began down the street. Joss broke the silence first. "Where are you taking us?"

He lifted his gaze almost reluctantly to meet hers in the rearview mirror. "To a safe house where I'll contact a friend in Justice and figure out how to proceed with your prosecution."

There was a pause as Joss closed her eyes and let his words sink in. Prosecution. From the moment she'd begun working with John and his enigmatic employer instead of chasing them, part of her always knew it would end this way, handcuffed and under arrest beside her Man in the Suit. But maybe this wasn't the end. She still held out hope that John's terse silence meant that he was thinking of a plan that he and Finch had set aside for this very situation. Surely they had a plan.

She opened her eyes and continued her questions. "No back-up? Going it alone, huh?"

This time when their eyes met, she could clearly see Donnelly's disappointment and betrayal-fueled anger. "Well Carter, I don't know who to trust anymore. When the Man in the…" He sighed and corrected himself. "When _John_ here slipped away the first time, I knew we were dealing with a mole, somebody on the inside. Then when his fingertips went missing and his DNA got switched, I was forced to consider that it might be you. I'll admit…you played a pretty good game until I put him in the yard alone. That's when I saw it in your eyes. Genuine concern."

Joss looked away from the mirror and toward the window. John lowered his gaze for a moment, resisting the urge to reach out to her. He never knew how much she had done to get him out of Rikers. Admittedly, he had assumed that Fusco was behind most of the evidence tampering. It seemed right up his alley. But it was Carter? His lips tightened into a thin line. Her moral compass was wavering.

"How did he turn you, Carter? What was your price?"

John turned his head slightly to be able to see her face out of the corner of his eye. Joss was not as subtle; her face turned completely toward his. He could tell that she wanted him to look at her fully. After a brief moment, realizing that he was not going to acquiesce, she turned away again, a small, sad smile on her lips. "No price." She gave her head a slight shake. "Just helping a friend."

Donnelly scoffed. "Then you've been played for a fool, recruited as an asset of a private intelligence…"

"You don't understand, Donnelly. He's a good man! We're _helping_ people!"

"Oh God, is that what he told you?" The skeptical laughter in the agent's voice was biting. "Wake up, Carter. Your friend is nothing more or less than a highly trained murderer. You don't wind up with that job by accident. He chose that life. He chose to become the monster he is. Now you've made your choice too."

John closed his eyes, hearing an echo of Kara's words from years ago. He heard Joss give a soft breathy chuckle and knew that she didn't believe anything Donnelly was saying. Of course she didn't think he was a monster. She had never seen him for what he truly was. Even when he was reeking of alcohol and living on the street, Carter had wanted the best for him and seen the best _in_ him.

Donnelly's phone let out two short rings; he pulled it from his coat pocket and held it to his ear. From the reflection in the rearview mirror, Joss could see confusion come across the man's face. He asked for the identity of the caller, and she knew at once who it was.

She and John turned to each other at the same time. Her eyes focused on his for only a second before she gasped at the sight of the large dump truck careening toward the SUV and gripped his hand.

_**And the men who spurred us on**_

_**Sit in judgment of all wrong**_

_**They decide and the shotgun sings the song**_

John slowly became aware of the fact that he was in some kind of vehicle, the sound of a little girl talking excitedly to her mother, droplets of rain hitting the cold window behind him. He had been drugged. His neck was slightly sore in the spot where the needle had entered. But who…? The back of his head suddenly bumped against the window and his eyes opened blearily. He blinked twice as the women sitting in front of him came into focus; his heart plummeting painfully in his chest.

Kara lifted a hand to run her fingers through the dark strands of Joss's ponytail. "Hello lover. Miss me?" She lowered her gaze to the unconscious woman whose head was resting on her shoulder and chuckled. "Well, I guess it's obvious that you didn't. You got a new partner, John."

After convincing himself that Carter was merely drugged and not injured, he allowed himself to turn his full attention to Kara. "I thought you were…"

"Dead?" Her eyes were smiling at him. "I wasn't very good at it. 'Course neither were you." Her gaze shifted to look to his left. "Our friend here on the other hand who sent us to kill each other…I suspect he'll be great at it."

John slowly turned, already knowing exactly who was seated there. Mark Snow raised an eyebrow at him in greeting. "Welcome to the party."

Carter finally stirred; he looked back at the sound of her little groan. "Kara, what are you going to do with her?"

"I've already done it." She carefully reached over and opened the petite woman's coat enough that John could see the vest and mess of wires.

"It's just like mine," Snow explained obligingly.

Kara grinned at his faux helpfulness and then tilted her head to the side. "I know that look you get John. Right before you do something disruptive." She pressed a button on the screen of a nondescript black smartphone and a high-pitched whine came from Carter's bomb vest.

Joss opened her eyes at the sound, inhaling deeply and then jolting upright. Her aching body screamed out in pain at the sudden motion. She turned wide, unfocused eyes to all three of them, eventually staring at the unfamiliar woman whom she had been leaning on. "…Kara Stanton?"

Kara gave a slight nod and continued speaking, "John, she's got enough Semtex duct-taped to her to spread a lot of misery around." Joss lifted a hand to the vest, slowly realizing what was going on. Kara gently placed a hand over hers to lower it once more. "Before either of you start to even think about disarming the vest, just remember I've got her on speed dial." She waved the smartphone with a pointed look at John.

He forced himself to tear his eyes away from Joss. "So what's this about, Kara?"

She smiled cheerfully at him and Snow. "I thought I'd get us all back together for one last little bit of field work. For old times' sake."

John's smile had none of the cheer that Kara's had. "You were never that sentimental."

"I wasn't, was I?" Kara reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a skin-tone earpiece, much like the one he used for communication with Finch. She motioned for him to put it in his ear even as she pulled out another one for Joss.

Joss hesitantly slid it into her ear canal. It was almost surreal to be with these three, to finally experience this world of theirs, to meet Kara Stanton, the ex-partner that Snow had convinced her John had killed in cold-blood. John looked like he was practically teeming with anger; she could feel the tension rolling off of him in waves. What was the saying? Out of the pan and into the fire. Before she and John met on the bridge, she had called Finch and told him that everything was taken care of. They went from being the prisoners of an obsessive but good agent to the captives of a psychotic madwoman. Yes. Everything was certainly taken care of. She forced herself out of her own thoughts in order to hear the psychotic madwoman's instructions.

"You and Mark are gonna run a few errands for me. Execute your tasks in a timely manner and everyone will remain intact." Kara playfully bumped shoulders with Joss. "Detective Carter here is going to do for me what she does for you. I'm sure she'll be an invaluable asset during our time together."

She handed John a bag, and he opened it to find guns and other essentials. He looked back up at her with a sigh. "So what's this really about?"

Kara pressed for the bus to stop. "This is about three dead little spies in a brave new world. This is about the afterlife, John, and us negotiating our place in it." She winked down at Joss, not at all bothered by the detective's glare. "Enjoy the show."

_**I'll tip my hat to the new constitution**_

_**Take a bow for the new revolution**_

_**Smile and grin at all the change around me**_

"I've gotta admit, I'm surprised you let this happen, John."

John narrowed his eyes at Snow as he opened the trunk of the car they were in the process of stealing from two businessmen. "Let _what_ happen, Mark?"

Snow flipped one of the unconscious men over and took his gun. "Let yourself care too much about someone. You think Kara could've gotten to you if you didn't care about that detective? If you weren't always letting your guard down around her?"

"Caring isn't always weakness."

"It certainly is for you."

John glanced down at the contents of the trunk, desperate to change the subject. "These uniforms…they're ATF agents, not businessmen."

"And now you're ATF agents too." They both turned. Kara exited the diner followed by Joss. She motioned toward the uniforms. "You've been temporarily reassigned."

The phone of one of the men began to ring and she inclined her head forward. "Answer it, John. But be smart. Mess this up and I'll make it impossible to tell where Mark begins and Detective Carter ends."

His eyes on Joss, John answered the phone, careful that his greeting was short and his voice nondescript. The man on the other line told him that there was a situation at 780 Mercer and requested that they check it out. John gave a clipped answer and hung up.

Kara began walking toward another car in the diner parking lot with the intentions of stealing it. "Time for you guys to get to work. Take the jackets and lose the bums."

They waited until she had pulled out of the lot to get moving. Snow went around the other side of the car and bent to retrieve the other man's phone and car keys. Joss moved closer to John as he subtly sent a text. She bit her lower lip, whispering, "Finch?"

He gave a small nod. "UXO."

"The military designation for unexploded ordnance?" Her brows rose incredulously. "Will he know what that is?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. But I don't exactly have the time to explain the situation to him right now." Snow passed by him and John dropped the phone into his palm. Joss watched Snow throw both phones into a nearby dumpster, turning back at the touch of John's hand on her arm. He was looking somewhere just above her head. Always avoiding eye contact. "Are you okay, Carter?"

"Other than the bomb vest, I'm sure she's just peachy," Snow interrupted. "Come on. Let's go." He grabbed one of the ATF jackets and shrugged into it before heading toward the driver's seat.

They watched him with identical scowls. Joss glanced down at John's hand and slowly nodded. "I'm okay. My entire body hurts and I'm worried about Taylor…but I'm okay."

He withdrew his arm. "Don't worry, Carter. I'm gonna get us out of this."

"Alive and not blown up." She reached into the trunk and took out the other jacket. "That would be nice."

He reached out to take it from her but Joss sidestepped to stand behind him. John sighed and allowed her to hold the jacket open as he placed one arm after the other inside. She stood in front of him once more, making short work of the buttons with unexpectedly steady fingers. "John?"

"Carter?"

"Do you have a plan? Do you think Finch has a plan?" Joss glanced over at Snow as he yelled for them to get a move on.

John stilled her hands by cupping one of his larger one's over them and took a step forward. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. Trust me on that, alright? Everything is going to be fine."

She closed her eyes as he gave her hands a quick squeeze, forcing herself to walk away and get into the car.

_**Change, it had to come**_

_**We knew it all along**_

_**We were liberated from the fall that's all**_

_**But the world looks just the same**_

_**And history ain't changed**_

"It's a bomb threat," Joss whispered as they approached 780 Mercer, a towering 21-story building and saw the police ushering people outside and the large NYPD Explosive Ordnance Squad vehicle parked nearby. "What the hell did she do? Plant a bomb in there?"

"Who knows?" Snow sighed. "My guess is it's a diversion. We've certainly got enough explosives on us to take care of a couple floors if need be."

She and John glanced down at her coat, still conveniently hiding the vest with only a little added bulk. Joss cleared her throat and led the way into the building. "We need to go to the elevators. Right rear one."

Brandishing her badge, she wasn't stopped by the many authorities guarding the way to the elevators and guiding people to the exits but a young police officer held out his hands to ward off the two men as they came near. "Hold up, fellas. Bomb squad's running this show. There's no need for…"

"We don't answer to the bomb squad," Snow interrupted, not even bothering to look the officer in the eye.

"Sorry. I don't know what to tell you."

John stepped forward, his steely gaze boring holes into the younger man. "Do you know what even half a pound of Semtex could do to a building like this or the people inside?"

"Well no but…"

"Well I do. And the longer you delay us, the more likely it is that you're gonna find out."

The officer's eyes widened. Joss walked back toward them then, smiling reassuringly at him. "Hi. Detective Carter. I just got the okay to escort these men to where they need to go. Bomb squad is waiting on their expertise."

"Really? They told me…"

"Change of plan." She lifted a hand and gestured for them to come forward.

John looked the officer up and down until he stepped to the side; he and Snow followed Joss to the correct elevator. As soon as the doors opened, they could hear Kara's voice in the ears. "_You're going to the 21__st__ floor." _

Joss scanned the available buttons with a frown. "This elevator only goes up to 20."

"_The access pad. Enter this code. 1573."_

John stepped in front of the pad and punched in the numbers. "What's up there?"

"_The floor is a level five DOD facility. Unfortunately, the men guarding it will not have left it for something as routine as a bomb threat. I doubt they're going to be too happy to see you boys."_

"Damn it Kara." He watched Joss attach a silencer to the firearm she had grabbed from the bag they had been given.

"_Oh come on, John. You know you missed this. The team working together. We used to be so in sync."_

Snow exchanged a cynical look with John. "What are we looking at up there?"

"_If I had to guess, two Delta force operators with M4's trained to fire if the elevator doors open without authorization."_

Snow gave a nod, the elevator's floor display beeped to inform them that they had reached their destination, and the three of them trained their weapons at the doors. John glanced at Joss. "Aim for the kneecaps."

"Of course."

The two operators were standing there waiting just as Kara predicted; they were easily dispatched. Snow and John placed duct-tape securely on their mouths and around their wrists while Joss kicked their weapons away from them. Snow shook his head in disbelief. "Delta force for guards? Where the hell are we? Safe house for high-level defectors? Bio-weapons storage maybe?" The guard that he was crouching over suddenly pulled his arms out of his grasp and punched him squarely in the jaw. Snow jerked backward and reached back for his gun. "Son of a bitch!"

John pulled out his own gun as Snow pressed the silencer against the detained man's forehead. "What did I say earlier? I'll play along with Kara's game but neither of us is going to kill for her."

"These guys get free, they're gonna come after us. You know that."

Joss crouched beside John. "They're just doing their job, Snow. We don't even know them, who they are, what they've done."

John nodded. "But I do know you, Mark. And I'm pretty sure you're the only one here that deserves to die."

Snow chuckled, raising his gaze from the operator. "I guess you really have changed, John. But I hope you two bleeding hearts don't get us killed."

"_Time may be a factor for this next stage. And there may be some signal interference inside the facility. So, we'll have to change your incentives a little bit." _

Joss's eyes widened as the high-pitch whine sounded once more from her and Snow's vests. She quickly unbuttoned her coat. John read the display on the attached phone, his voice purposefully emotionless. "Fifteen minutes. Kara, don't do this."

"_If you don't want her to blow up, do what I ask. Now make your way to the lab."_

He slowly got to his feet, offering Joss a hand. She grabbed it with a tighter grasp than was necessary and he knew that she was trying to draw strength from him. Her lips tilted upward in a wry smile. "Your ex-partner is a piece of work, John."

They began walking down the hallway, eyes searching for the lab. Snow smirked. "Kara is a psychopath, Carter. It gave her qualities that made her the perfect agent but perhaps not the _ideal_ choice for John's mentor."

"Mentor?" Joss's eyebrows furrowed and she turned to John. "What could that woman possibly have taught you?"

He looked down at her without speaking for a long moment before shrugging and turning away. "How to be a killer."

So it was Kara Stanton who had ruined him. That woman told John that he was a monster and made sure that he believed it. Joss scanned the chiseled features of his face. "You're a good man." His eyes drifted down to hers once more. She held his gaze in her dark one unwaveringly. "You. Are. A. Good. Man. I know that and the people that you've saved know that."

"I think the trouble is convincing the people he's killed. And there are a whole lot more of them, Carter."

She glowered at Snow. "There's such a thing as redemption, Agent Snow. Forgiveness. Grace. Letting the past be the past."

"That's really easy to say when your past isn't teeming with blood."

John aimed an icy glare at him and tapped his earpiece as they came to stand in front of the lab. "We're in position."

"_The first thing you'll hit is the security desk. Take out the cameras, alarms, and erase the last two hours on the back-up. I'll tell you where to go from there."_

They shed their ATF uniforms, leaving them in a heap outside the door, and went inside. John's well-placed punch easily knocked out the busied himself erasing the footage; Joss worked on shutting down the alarms. When they were finished, John led the way through the next series of doors. "We're in."

"The question is, in what?" Snow looked around the small room between doors, shrugging at the blank white walls.

"_You're looking for a technician with high-level clearance. Try the temperature-controlled room labeled Applied Research."_

Three shirt-and-tie-clad men sat in a room peering at computer screens and surrounded by papers. They passed by without any of them noticing and entered a hallway. At the end, John pressed himself against the wall and held up a hand toward Joss and Snow.

Snow leaned forward a bit to see the room they were looking for and two men standing in front of the door talking. "Bio-weapons?"

"No. Electronic," John whispered back. "That room prevents radio and wireless signals from getting through."

"_Your tax dollars at work," _Kara replied. "_You need to get into that room. Mark can take it from there."_

John's eyes narrowed. "What's in there, Kara?"

"_Just get inside. And don't drag your feet. Detective Carter doesn't have much time left, you know."_

"Detonate her and you blow up whatever it is that completes this plan of yours."

Kara's voice hardened. "_Fond as I am of you, John, don't make me remind you how dangerous it is to care about people. Get in the room. Now."_

They watched from their hidden position as the door to Applied Research opened and a late twenty-something in a white coat emerged. He smiled at one of the men standing there. "See you tomorrow, Jimmy."

As soon as he rounded the corner, John wrapped his arm quickly around the young man's neck and pulled him close, his hand firmly clapped against his mouth. "We're gonna need you to put in some more time. Quietly."

The young man nodded anxiously and John released him. He led the way back to the lab where the guard named Jimmy frowned at the group behind him. "Hey, who are…?" Snow slammed his gun into the man's jaw, knocking him to the ground.

The technician gasped. "Do you guys have any idea where you are?"

"Just give us a hand, will you?" John grabbed his wrist and pressed his hand against the scanner by the door.

Joss raised an eyebrow. "Really? You're using puns? _Now_?" He shrugged, giving the scientist a gentle push into the room.

The dimly lit room was filled with cubicle after cubicle, each with an office chair and pair of computers. Snow gestured toward one. "Log in." The technician sank down into the nearest chair, complied, and raised his hands. Snow roughly yanked him up again and took his place.

"Mark." John glanced at Joss and then leaned toward him. "We don't have to do this."

Snow's hands stilled on top of the keyboard. "Yeah we do…or we're dead."

"No. There's no signal."

Joss nodded, stepping forward. "She can't hear us. We can figure out a way to stop her…"

"…Or at least a way out of these vests," John finished.

"Oh, that's cute. Now you finish each other's sentences." Snow shook his head, his eyes betraying how tired he was of the situation. It had months of this torture, always knowing his life was quickly ending but never knowing when the abrupt end would come. "Don't you think I've tried to get out of this? Don't you think I've been fighting her this entire time, always looking for a way out?" He blinked and turned his attention back to the computer screen. "Guess what? There isn't a way out, John."

"There has to be."

"We don't have time." He looked at the young technician. "Show these two to the servers." He handed the drive to Joss. "I'll let you know when I've found an unused drive bay."

When they had rounded the corner to the servers, John turned to the technician with a finger pressed against his lips, letting him know that Snow was not meant to hear anything that was about to be said. "What's your name?"

"Kevin."

John picked up a phone and nodded. "Kevin, we're gonna need your help."

_**I'll move myself and my family aside **_

_**If we happen to be left half alive**_

_**I'll get my papers and smile at the sky**_

_**For I know that the hypnotized never lie**_

"A super-virus?" Joss looked from John to Kevin with wide eyes. "For what?"

Kevin sighed. "It's information malware designed to infect and destroy computer networks."

"That's why none of these machines is connected," John reasoned.

Kevin nodded. "Nothing in here can be allowed to get out there. It would be…catastrophic, crippling major civilian networks, our own defense systems. It could kill the entire internet."

"_Which means it could be used to shut down the Machine." _

John felt the worry in his employer's voice as much as he heard it. "I won't let that happen." He paused for a brief moment, eyes looking nowhere in particular, before continuing, "Harold, I need you to stay clear of the building."

"_What are you going to…?" _

John hung up the phone before Harold could finish. Joss saw the resignation on his face and sighed, turning to Kevin. "Is there any way to erase these drives?"

He shook his head apologetically. "Only if there's a security breach to the system. But its fail-safe is to wipe the drives."

John immediately turned to the servers. Joss opened her coat a bit. 02:04. Two minutes of life left.

Kevin stepped toward her, pointing a shaking finger at her midsection. "Is that a…?" She closed the coat quickly and went to join John in compromising the servers.

"You two are gonna get us killed." Neither of them turned at the sound of Snow's voice, and he barked out, "John! Put the drive back in the bay!"

Joss's hands stilled; John slowly turned to face his ex-handler. "Not gonna happen."

Snow suddenly rushed him. Joss stepped out of the way just in time to avoid being slammed into the servers by John's body. She pushed Kevin toward the exit and pulled out her gun. "Stop this. Damn it, stop!"

The vests let out their signature sound. Snow stumbled back from John and jerked open his shirt to see the timer. Time was up.

"Break it up boys."

They all turned. Kara calmly entered the room, gun trained on them. Joss let out a humorless chuckle and aimed her gun right back at her. "It doesn't even matter that the drives are erased, does it, Stanton? We were just clearing a path for you."

Kara shrugged. "I always knew John wouldn't follow orders. I'm sure you're noticed that he's not too good at it." Her dark eyes narrowed at Kevin. "Get the drive."

Kevin grabbed it from the workstation, and Joss stepped in front of him. Kara smiled, clearly amused by her actions. "I can see why John is so taken with you, Detective. You certainly are a good guy, aren't you? Have you always been this much of a straight arrow?" She motioned for her to move out of the way. "But now's not the time to be the hero. You're not in a million pieces right now because I chose not to blow you to kingdom come. Don't press your luck."

Joss didn't move, only letting her gaze fall away from Kara's face when John came to stand beside her. He used a gentle hand on her arm to lower her weapon, whispering, "Trust me."

She reluctantly stepped aside so that Kevin could give the drive to Kara. The other woman held out her hand. "The gun, Detective. I can see leaving you armed would be a bad idea." Joss dropped it into her palm.

The five of them walked out of Applied Research to another room. John looked around at the several large computer monitors around the room. "What is all this?"

"It's where we monitor the government's most secure networks against cyber-attacks," Kevin answered. "From here she can reach…"

"Everything." Kara began the process of uploading the drive's components. "But don't worry. I'm not trying to take anything. I'm giving them something. Call it a little gift."

John watched her with tired eyes. "What have you done, Kara?"

"My job…John."

"I know how you feel." Joss and Snow looked at John, surprised that he was going the useless, softer approach. He began to walk toward her, non-threatening and pacifying. "I was there in Ordos, remember? We both got burned and we both got betrayed. But we survived. And we've gotta let it go. It's not too late to end this."

"Oh John." She reached up and stroked his cheek. "I plan to." With her other hand, she pressed a button on her phone. Joss watched Snow check his vest and closed her eyes tightly. The vests were re-armed. Another five minutes to live.

Kara walked backward out of the room. "I meant what I said before about missing this. But, you know, it's true what they say. You can't go home again." She aimed a particularly wistful smile at Snow and pushed the button for the door to close.

Joss opened her eyes again at the sound of Kara repeatedly shooting the door mechanism. Four minutes. "Kevin, can you override the door?"

He sat down in front of a computer. "No…but I can overload the room's power supply which should cause an emergency shutdown."

"Do it. Please."

His hands flew over the keyboard and the room was suddenly bathed in red light, an alarm sounding loudly. Snow pushed on the door to no avail. "Still locked."

Kevin frowned. "The battery back-up must have kicked in."

John scanned the area by the door for the battery, pointing once he located it. "Here."

He and Snow shot at it until the alarm went silent and the room was dark. They easily slid the door open. John turned to Kevin. "Stay here. It's safer that way." The young man simply nodded, his gratitude visible on his face.

Three minutes to disarm the vest. John walked out of the monitoring center and looked at Snow in confusion when Joss was not standing there with him. "Where is she?"

The other man silently pointed in the opposite direction and he turned to see her heading toward the stairwell. "Carter!"

She grabbed hold of the railing and paused, looking at him from over her shoulder. "I've got to get as far away from civilians as possible, John. Go on. You have just enough time to get down to the street if you take the elevator."

"We need to get you out of that vest."

Joss turned toward him completely. She glanced at Snow and then shook her head. "I saw plenty of these in Iraq. Once I'm up on the roof, I'll try to disarm it but…you need to get off this floor. Now."

His blue eyes were searching her face in utter disbelief. "You think I'm leaving you here?" She took a step back from him, preparing to turn around again, and John grabbed hold of her arm. "Carter."

Snow scoffed behind them. "There really isn't any time for this." He had made his way to the elevator and was calmly watching the doors open. "The whole self-sacrifice bit is beginning to wear a little thin, don't you think?"

Joss's dark eyes blazed. "You're going _toward_ civilians? What if you blow up in the middle of a crowd, Snow?"

"The agency's got a safe house less than two blocks from here. It's a long shot but I'll take my chances."

John frowned. "Even if you made it, you think the agency will take you back? In their eyes, you're as compromised as it gets, Mark. Think about it. All that's waiting for you is a black hood."

Snow backed into the elevator with a passive shrug. "Good luck, John. And you too, Carter." He looked between the two of them and smirked. The elevator doors closed once more.

Joss started forward as though to chase him down, but John held out an arm in front of her, effectively stopping her progress. "Don't worry about him. I think I know what he plans to do."

"Care to share?"

"Sure. After I get you out of this." He guided her back into the darkened Applied Research room and walked to the phone near the servers.

Her hands were beginning to shake. Joss took a seat at the workstation and tucked them between her legs, praying that he wouldn't notice. "Are you calling Finch?"

John gave a curt nod. Harold answered on the first ring. "_Mr. Reese. Is Detective Carter alright?"_

"She'll be fine once we disarm the vest. All I'm seeing is a phone and some wires. Any ideas?"

"_Stanton has probably wired the phone to a capacitor-based trigger. All phones have a universal unlock code based on their model and unique IMEI number. I have been able to trace the signal on the detective's vest and…yes, we can unlock it. The problem is we only get three attempts at finding the proper code before the phone permanently locks us out and I'm looking at five different possibilities."_

The screen of the phone changed to display both the time remaining and four blank fields for the unlock code. John knelt in front of Joss, tilting his head to the side to secure the phone and placing his hands on either side of her legs. "Tell me the numbers to try."

"_5876."_

He quickly punched the numbers, wincing as a white box appeared below his entry that said two more attempts remained. "No good."

"_Oh damn."_

01:40. Joss bit her lower lip. "John, Finch can tell me the numbers. You don't need to be here."

"You'd do the same thing if I were the one wearing the vest."

"_Try…1941."_

John did and shook his head. Then, remembering that Finch couldn't see him, "One attempt remaining."

"_Give me a moment."_

01:21. John noticed that, despite their current position, her hands were shaking. He took them into his own. "It's okay to be scared, Joss. I don't expect you to be strong all the time."

She gave him a small smile. "Last time you called me that, I had gotten shot. Hopefully you're not starting a trend where bad things happen around the time you call me by my name." He chuckled, and she felt the soft sound and his gentle touch help to soothe her frazzled nerves.

"_Mr. Reese, try 7240…no…"_

John's finger froze above the zero. "Finch?"

"_I just…"_

Joss grabbed the phone from the crook of John's neck. "Finch, I trust you. Pick a winner. Please."

"_3095," _the man blurted out.

She whispered the numbers to John and nodded. "Thank you, both of you. For all your help."

"_Detective Carter…"_ Harold paused, and she smiled at the emotion that was in his voice. Who would've guessed she wasn't just an asset to him? How far they had come. He cleared his throat and continued, his voice a bit stronger than before, "We _should be thanking you."_

Joss handed the phone back to John; he had only entered in the first three digits of the possible code. He set the phone back on the workstation desk. 00:25. Good, now his hands were shaking. He looked up at her. "Joss…before I do this...I should tell you…"

She suddenly leaned forward in the chair; her hands went to either side of his face, gently holding him steady as their lips met. There was no need. He wasn't going anywhere. When she leaned back again, her smile practically lit up the room. "I already know, John. Trust me, I already know."

He took hold of her hand and entered the last digit.

_**Change, it had to come**_

_**We knew it all along**_

_**We won't get fooled again**_

**I might tweak this one a bit as time goes on but I hope you liked my spin on "Dead Reckoning". Please review and send me prompts! Hopefully my writer's block won't strike again!**


	4. Let Go (Breakdown)

**Author's Note: **Well, we're certainly going from one hiatus to the next, aren't we? Here's a small one-shot (that could possibly be continued) based on gypsy's prompt of Reese and an undercover Carter at a strip club. It's not really based on a song but I did listen to Alice Russell's "Breakdown" while writing it.

**Sky View Executive Club**

**607 W 45****th**** Street, New York **

John scanned the club's interior, intently searching for their latest number. Filled to capacity almost every day of the week, Sky View was widely recognized as the city's premiere gentlemen's club. Nearly every one of its comfortable chairs was occupied, the customers lightly bathed in blue and violet lights. He discreetly tapped his earpiece. "Are you sure he's here, Finch?"

_"I'm quite certain, Mr. Reese. In fact, your signals are practically right on top of each other."_

One of Sky View's signature employees passed by; he stopped her with a gentle tap on the shoulder. She looked him over with a brilliant smile. "Hey honey, what can I do for you tonight? Lap dances are…"

John chuckled nervously, forcing his gaze to remain on her face and not wander toward the generous cleavage spilling out of her tightly fitted tube top. "No thanks. I'm actually looking for a customer of yours. Leon Tao."

"Oh Leon!" She pointed towards a closed-off area. "He went into one of our private rooms about ten minutes ago. I think he's in the one on the far left."

"Right. Thank you."

The woman grasped his arm as he moved to walk away. Her lips turned upward in an uncertain grin. "You're going in there?"

"Is that a problem?"

She paused for a moment and thought about it. Finally, she shrugged. "I guess not. He's getting the new girl tonight so she's probably not there yet but…"

"So I won't be interrupting anything." John smiled reassuringly and walked toward the private room. After a sharp rap on the door and hearing Leon's protest that the room was occupied, he entered.

If he was the bane of Fusco's existence, Leon Tao was certainly the bane of his. He took in Leon's decidedly blasé position reclining on the large velour sofa against the wall with a frown. "He's here, Finch."

Harold's voice could only be described as exasperated. _"I'm glad we found him before Cohen's men did. Please get him to safety, Mr. Reese. I can see from his credit card statement that Mr. Tao is a frequent visitor of the club. Doubtless, Cohen knows of his propensity toward the establishment as well."_

Leon had been beaming at the sight of John but slowly the smile slipped from his face. "Wait. You're here because I'm in danger? What am I in danger of this time?"

John sank down beside him. "You're in danger of being shot, Leon. Shot by me. Because I'm getting _really_ tired of saving you."

"I haven't even done anything yet." Leon's eyes widened at John's raised eyebrows. "Really! I just came here to relax after a long day of accounting. Did your partner tell you that I got a new job? I'm an accountant again. A legitimate one. No more laundering for me. No sir, I'm walking the straight and narrow path from now on."

After searching his face and finding nothing but honesty, John sighed. "Did we make a mistake here, Finch?"

_"Oh, the danger is undeniable. Perhaps…perhaps there has been a lethal misunderstanding on the part of Mr. Cohen."_

They heard female voices directly outside of the private room, and Leon straightened. His excitement was obvious on his face. "I've been waiting for this all week."

"There's no time for this, Leon." John stood again, motioning for him to do the same. "Misunderstanding or not, the head of your firm is gunning for you. We've gotta move now."

"But I've already paid!"

"_Now_, Leon." He turned to open the door just as it swung open and took a staggering step backward at the sight of the woman standing there.

* * *

"Not one word." Joss quickly closed the door behind herself and held up a single finger toward John. "Don't you dare say one word."

His jaw felt like it had dropped to the floor, and he couldn't even force himself to fix his face. His gaze greedily took in every bit of her exposed bronzed skin, from the curves of her breasts as they strained against the red and black brassiere to her stomach's flat planes and the toned lines of her legs. She stepped forward with a four-inch stiletto-clad foot, raising an eyebrow at Leon. "Oh. Hello."

"Detective," Leon managed to choke out, his face mirroring John's in absolute shock and appreciation. "Why do you wear clothes?"

Joss raised a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Let me guess, John, we're both here for the same reason."

Leon rubbed his hands together. "So you're both protecting me tonight. Excellent."

"Not excellent." John fixed him with a warning glare and then turned back to her. "The NYPD has tabs on Cohen?"

"We suspect him of orchestrating a homicide and I was sent here to intercept whoever he dispatched to get rid of his pesky money launderer. I'm gonna assume that's you, Leon."

"I didn't do anything! Someone's set me up!" Leon jumped up from the sofa, stepping toward them with arms outstretched. "Come on guys, you have to believe me about this. I've only been working for Mr. Cohen one month now and things have been going really well. Why would I mess that up?"

Joss placed her hands on her shapely hips and shrugged. "Same reason you mess everything else up?"

"Oh well that's just unfair."

_"Mr. Reese, I'm actually inclined to believe Mr. Tao's protests. This money trail is pristine and nearly untraceable."_

"In other words, not his style." Both Joss and Leon turned to John. He looked Joss up and down, keeping his expression purely professional this time. "You were planning to intervene but I'm not seeing where you would keep your weapon, Detective."

She walked over to the couch and bent at the waist, giving them another amazing view. When she straightened again, her signature Beretta was clutched in her hand. "Something told me that if anyone were going to try anything, it would be in here. Private room policy says that employees can only come in under two circumstances, the initial customer has left the room and someone seems to be in distress."

Leon folded his arms across his chest. "So why would they even bother doing it here? I'd yell out and they'd be caught."

"You can't yell out if you're dead, Leon." A sudden thought occurred to John and he angled his body toward Joss, lowering his voice. "They sent you by yourself to intervene in an assassination?"

She sighed. "An assassination is a homicide, and in case you haven't noticed, I'm a homicide detective. This is my job."

"But you don't have to do your job alone."

"I have back-up."

"Not with you."

"You know what, thank goodness my superiors at the precinct don't coddle me as much as you do. I'm perfectly capable of…"

"No one doubts that you're capable, Detective," he interrupted.

"Oh yeah, no one's doubting anything with you in _that_ outfit," Leon interjected. They both glared at him.

_"Mr. Reese, Cohen just transferred fifty thousand dollars into the accounts of a David Romero and his brother Luis."_

John nodded, pulling open his jacket to grab his own weapon. "We're about to have company. Two assassins."

Leon glanced wildly around the room and then shook his head. "What am I supposed to do? Should you guys give me a weapon?"

Joss pursed her full lips together. "Get behind the damn couch, Leon."

"Okay!"

She smirked as the unlucky man hurried to obey, turning her gaze up to John's face. "I'll try to leave one for you, handsome."

* * *

One thing was for sure. John would never again underestimate the damage a stiletto heel could do to a man's face. He bent to pull the Ruger out of an unconscious Luis Romero's grip, tapping his earpiece at the same time. "Situation is under control, Finch. Where should we take Leon?"

"_We_?" Joss raised an eyebrow. "Who said you're coming with me?" When John silently raised a hand to point at himself, she gave her head a firm shake. "No. We are _not_ partners in crime. I am calling my superiors, letting them know the situation is under control, taking Leon here to a safe house, leaving him_ at_ that safe house, going home to my quiet apartment, and resting."

"He's still in danger, Carter. Who's to say Cohen won't just send someone else to get rid of him?"

Still standing behind the sofa, Leon nodded and looked between the two of them with pleading eyes. "Yeah! Who's to say that?"

Her eyes narrowed at the way he was still perusing her scantily clad body. "We'll have an officer spend the night with you if that'd make you feel safer." She turned to John. "And I'm sure he and his friend will be watching over you."

"He's coming with me," John responded, voice calm as ever despite the fact that she was now aiming a glare at him that could kill.

_"I can direct you to one of my apartments on Fifth Avenue, Mr. Reese."_

"Fifth Avenue apartment," he told Joss. "See, it's taken care of."

"What am I supposed to tell my superiors? Shots fired, victim disappeared?"

"Tell them whatever you like, Carter, but he's under our protection." John walked toward the door, concealing his weapons before opening it and motioning for Leon to follow. He looked back at Joss as Leon passed by him into Sky View's main room. "You could always come _with_ us."

Leon nodded. "You'd be more than welcome as long as you don't change that outfit, Detective."

John shoved Leon toward the club's entrance. "I'll meet you outside."

"But there are men trying to kill me!"

"Outside!"

Leon groaned and made his way out of Sky View. Joss slipped her tired feet out of her heels, not able to bear wearing them for another moment. "He's gonna be disappointed as hell when I come to the car in normal clothes."

John stood by the door, drinking in the sight of her. "Well, he won't be the only one." When she looked up at him with wide eyes, he winked. "We'll be waiting for you in the Porsche Turbo."

He walked away before she could utter a single shocked word.

**Review and give me prompt/song suggestions!**


	5. One and Only

**Author's Note:** Based on Adele's "One and Only" - song suggestion by RunningGirl510. Carter and Reese have a past due conversation after the deaths of Szymanski and Beecher. (New episode this week! Woot!)

_"You know, you could've done me a favor and let those guys land a few punches." _

_ John's gaze intently followed the woman as she closed the door of the room where he had been waiting. His hand unconsciously tightened around the small plastic cup he had placed down on the surface of the table beside him. The hour of silence in which he had been sitting gave him time to sober up, time to have his first clear thoughts since the beginning of his seemingly endless drinking binge. It was unfortunate really. He had been drinking in order to forget. Now it seemed as though he could remember everything. Nights sleeping on the New York streets. Contemplation of better ways to end it all. The crunching of a foolish young man's nose as he had elbowed him in order step forward to squeeze the life out of another equally as foolish young man. The look of absolute terror in the boy's eyes. How many more times would he see terror when someone looked at him?_

_ The female detective was beautiful; he would've noticed that even as drunk as he had been. John scanned the unique features of her face, her dark doe-like eyes, high cheekbones, and full lips, taking in the somber nature of the black shirt, vest, and pants that she wore. Her clothing was purposely androgynous but she couldn't hide her womanly figure._

_ She folded her arms across her chest and stepped forward. He forced himself to focus on what she was saying and not the inherently sensual sway of her hips. "Looking at that tape, I'd say you spent some time in the service." She sat down on the table, close enough that her subtle perfume almost cloaked the smell of alcohol emanating from his every pore. Her lips quirked upward in a grin. "But you don't learn to fight like that in the regular army. So what were you? Special Forces? Delta?" _

_ He lowered his gaze and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The detective nodded to herself, rising from the table. "I'm Carter." She moved toward the water dispenser against the wall. "You didn't give us a name."_

_ John surprised himself by speaking then. "You know it's funny. Seems like the only time you need a name now is when you're in trouble." She turned back around with a full cup of water, and he met her eyes, almost as if challenging her. "So am I in trouble?"_

_ "I don't know, you tell me. You're the one living on the street." Carter set the cup down in front of him, leaning on the table with two hands flat against its surface. Her gaze was unflinching. So this was a woman who was used to a challenge. She sighed and broke eye contact long enough to sit on the table once more. "Making that transition can be tough. Some guys I knew got a little lost. Needed a little help adjusting." Her dark gaze suddenly softened and searched his. "You need some help?"_

_ Refusing to break eye contact, he raised the cup to his lips and took a long, slow sip. There was no judgment in her eyes; she wasn't expecting him to be ashamed of his current state. He saw understanding and a strong desire to get him back on his feet. However, for most people, back on their feet implied a return to normalcy, and John hadn't known the meaning of the word for too long._

_ When he didn't say a word, Carter closed her eyes for a moment. He could practically feel her disappointment. She stood and slipped her hand into his newly emptied cup, making certain that the only prints found on its outer sides would be his. John watched her, understanding fully. She would run his prints. She would see what kind of monster he was. She would see that he didn't deserve any her salvation._

_ "Yeah, some men needed help adjusting…" Carter walked over to a nearby television. "Of course, some other guys I knew had done so many evil things; they felt like they needed the punishment." She bent slightly at the waist to click a button and footage of the subway attack appeared on the screen. Her gaze was penetrating when she straightened and faced him. "That sound more like your story?"_

_ John couldn't focus on the screen. It was rare that he was able to see what he looked like in action. Cameras weren't exactly left untouched whenever he was in their presence. He lowered his eyes for the second time, unable somehow to even meet her gaze._

_ "Excuse me for a second." Carter made sure she had the cup covered with his fingerprints in a firm grip and walked out of the room. _

_ He raised his gaze to watch her through the room's windows as she walked down the precinct hallway, partly hoping that it wouldn't be long before she returned and partly praying that they never saw each other again. Detective Carter was a beautiful woman but she was also dangerous. She was the kind of woman who could make him turn his life around, and he would do it for her sake, all because he wanted her to know that he could be so much more than she saw now. _

_ Clearing his throat softly, John gave his head a subtle shake. A woman like that could change everything. _

_ But not if he kept his distance._

**_I dare you to let me be your one and only_**

**_Promise I'm worthy to hold in your arms_**

**_So come on and give me a chance_**

**_To prove I am the one who can walk that mile_**

**_Until the end starts_**

Taylor Carter had only seen Detective Cal Beecher twice. Both times it was at a distance, watching from his bedroom window at the apartment as the man opened his car door for his mother and the chaste kiss good night that usually followed. He was never home when his mother had Cal Beecher in the apartment; she was taking her time in introducing the two men in her life. He had noticed long ago that she was also taking her time acknowledging the fact that there were three men in her life: a fellow detective, a son, and a mysterious vigilante.

As he stood in the sunshine, a silent observer to the funeral of a man he'd never actually met, it was the mysterious vigilante that caught Taylor's attention. The tall man was well-hidden in the shadows cast by the large tree he stood under. His gaze, the focus of which was intense enough to be seen from where Taylor stood, wasn't on Detective Beecher's casket. It wasn't even on his grief-stricken mother.

Taylor followed his gaze, unsurprised when it led to his mother. He saw the silent tears running down her cheeks and frowned. She hadn't even cried that night when she told him that Detective Beecher had been killed in the line of duty. Her voice had been devoid of any emotion, dry and matter-of-fact as though she was telling him her work schedule for the week. It seemed kind of odd, considering that she was dating the man.

Deciding that no one would notice if he stepped away, Taylor walked over to where the vigilante stood. Piercing blue eyes slowly focused on his face, and he bit his lower lip. "Did you know him?"

"Not really." John looked back at Joss. "How is she?"

"Look at her. How do you think she is?" Taylor shrugged when John frowned at his sharp answer, hoping the gesture would take out some of the sting. "My mom once told me that we had someone looking after us. I always thought she was talking about you. So where've you been? Why'd you leave her all alone?"

"Last I checked we're not attending your mother's funeral." John kicked himself internally as soon as the words came out of his mouth.

They were meant to be a distraction from the truth in Taylor's words, but they only succeeded in being insensitive and cold. It had been months without any direct contact with Joss, months without any attempt on his part to reach out to her even after the death of Szymanski. He hadn't even given Szymanski's murder the attention the killing of a good detective deserved. Instead he had turned to Samantha Shaw, following her to the home of her dead partner's parents and giving a speech about not needing to be alone. Meanwhile, Joss had been very much alone, hadn't she? There was no guarantee that it wouldn't have eventually been her number that he and Finch received too late because of their negligence. Then, it would be Joss's funeral that they attended.

He inhaled a ragged breath and shook his head. "We thought it would be for the best, Taylor. We were trying to protect her."

"By ignoring the fact that people are dying all around her?"

John stayed silent. He didn't know how much Joss had told her son about the long, exhausting days at Riker's or those that followed. Did she tell him that she had almost risked her reputation, her career, her life for a man who was already dead? Did she tell him that she'd almost lost it all for a man who had nothing to lose? Honest to a fault. That was how he had once described her to Harold. She believed the best in everyone and fought for others to see what she saw. And what did it almost get her? A permanently tarnished record and a cell at Riker's.

Taylor watched the older man's face. It was unnervingly still despite the many emotions showing through his eyes. He knew firsthand that John was a protector. When Elias had kidnapped him, his mother had sent John, not her fellow police officers, to bring him back to her. Taylor had watched John's face as his mother beamed gratefully, watched the normally stoic man smile back and wink, reaching out to touch his mother's hand briefly before walking away. He had known then what kind of connection was between the two of them.

He heard the pastor speaking beside Beecher's casket begin his closing prayer and knew that it was time to return to the funeral, turning to completely face John. "You'll be watching over her now, won't you? She's back on your radar?"

John nodded. "I won't let anything happen to her. Or you. I promise."

Taylor searched his face for a moment and then nodded as well. "Good enough." He took several steps forward before pausing to turn back. "You know, I'll be staying with Grandma for a few days. Mom will be alone at the apartment. I'm sure she'd appreciate it if someone would stop by."

John watched the young man return to his place amongst the police offers and detectives. Good kid. So much like his mother that he often wondered how much of Taylor's father's personality presented itself.

_"You're at the funeral, Mr. Reese?"_

He reached up to his earpiece. The flag on Beecher's casket was being methodically folded and given to his mother who stood with the support of Joss's hand on the small of her back. "It's wrapping up, Finch."

_"Detective Carter is…?_" Finch's voice trailed off before his question was completed but John knew its ending.

"Is there a new number?"

_"Not at the moment. The Machine seems to be continuing its unsettling silence."_

There would be a time to worry about The Machine. Something was coming soon, John could feel it. For now, however, he would direct his attention where it was urgently needed. "I'll need part of the night off."

_"For…? Ah."_ Finch paused. _"Yes. I agree that it's time to end your separation from Detective Carter." _

"Get Fusco for any case that might come up. Contact me only if absolutely necessary."

_"Understood….Mr. Reese?"_

John had started to end the communication but stopped short, his index finger hovering close to his ear. "Yes, Finch?"

_"Take care of the detective."_

"I will." He looked back over to Joss; the funeral was over, the casket being lowered, and all of the officers standing at attention, their hands raised to their brows in firm salute. Her eyes were downcast; her hand absently rubbed small comforting circles on Beecher's mother's back. "If she'll let me, I will."

**_I don't know why I'm scared 'cause I've been here before_**

**_Every feeling, every word, I've imagined it all_**

**_You'll never know if you never try_**

**_To forget your past and simply be mine_**

**3001 E. 5****th**** Street, Apt 2A**

Joss sat down at the kitchen table and poured herself a glass of wine, unsurprised when her shaking hand caused the bottle of merlot to clink repeatedly against the glass's rim. Having the apartment to herself was once a luxury. Now that she had just returned from dropping Taylor off at her mother's house, she wanted to drive back and get him again. He'd been especially wonderful the last few days, doubtless beginning to notice the curse surrounding his mother. First Szymanski. Now Cal. Two good detectives killed for knowing too much about the corruption pervading the NYPD.

Her eyes closed tightly. If his murder had happened a week ago, she wouldn't have even known to group Cal in with Szymanski as a good detective. There was so much about him that troubled her, his flashy past lifestyle, his temper, the mysterious source of his information. He died before she could tell him that she believed he was a good man and that she trusted him to join her in her mission to take down HR. She and Fusco could sure use some help, seeing as how they were suddenly going it alone.

Joss had learned to accept abandonment long ago, whether it was intentional or not. When Finch had suggested that she put some distance between herself and John Reese, she'd immediately agreed. Those days at Riker's were exhausting; the days after were nothing short of traumatic. She needed the break and some time to think about all that she had almost lost. But now that people were dying all around her, she couldn't help but wish for the protection of her ever-present Man in the Suit again. So where was he?

She took a long drink of the wine, feeling the liquid begin to relax her body. They got the information that Cal was in danger too late. That was the only explanation. Surely, if they could have prevented his murder, they would. They did for everyone else.

There was a knock on the apartment door, and she tensed. After a quick second, Joss got to her feet and walked to get a Beretta from one of the drawers in the kitchen. HR worked quickly. Take out three detectives in less than a month. Get rid of all the loose threads. It made sense. But unlike Szymanski and Cal, she knew exactly how they worked. This was expected.

She silently slipped off her shoes and padded over. Hoping to get a clue of whom or how many were outside her door, she pressed her ear against the wall beside it.

"Carter, it's me."

The voice was low, barely discernible even through the thin apartment wall, but she recognized it immediately. Her heart began thumping painfully at the thought of being faced with John Reese, but she quickly unlocked her door and stepped aside so he could enter. He watched her as she locked the door once more, turning to face him with her back against it.

What she said to break the silence between them was a lot tamer than she thought her first words to the vigilante would be. "If you came to find out who the head of HR is, don't bother asking me. As far as I know, that secret died with Cal."

He didn't respond at first, choosing instead to unhurriedly take in the sight of her. Her exhaustion, due only partly to a lack of sleep, caused her eyes to lose the luster they normally had. For the first time since he had met the petite detective, she looked lost, and considering that he'd always considered her to be the moral compass of their strange little team, that was disturbing to say the least.

"I've only seen you with beer. You drink wine, Reese?" Joss stepped around him to return to the kitchen, reaching up into a cabinet to grab another glass. "Have a seat. I'm sure there's a lot you think we need to talk about."

"Isn't there?" She raised her eyebrows at him, and he raised his own. "Isn't there a lot we need to talk about?"

Her lips pursed together in the usual half-smirk, half-grimace that was reserved for dealing with him. "I don't know. I was getting used to being alone again."

"You were never alone, Joss," he argued, his voice suddenly more impassioned.

"It's been months of nothing from you. _Months_. I tried to be a team player. I kept my distance while still helping you as best I could. I shouldn't have expected you to return the favor."

He accepted the glass of wine from her, lowering his gaze to the dark red liquid. "We kept in contact with you."

"Oh, Finch did." A small smile graced her lips as she thought of the words of comfort and encouragement that the bespectacled man had given her over the past few months. It disappeared when she focused on John again. "You didn't."

"Szymanski and Beecher…Joss…"

"Don't." She chuckled humorlessly. "I don't want to hear any belated, half-ass words of sympathy from you, John. I want to know why you let them die."

"I didn't let them die. I didn't even know they were in danger. Sometimes we're just too late." He shook his head slowly from side to side and then added, "Sometimes _I'm_ too late."

Joss sat across the table from him. "You like to push away the people you care about. You separate yourself from them and tell yourself that it's for their good. Meanwhile, they'll all alone, horrible things happen, and you're left with guilt and regret. It's a vicious cycle for you, isn't it, John? When does it end? _How_ does it end?" She felt tears begin to sting her eyes and blinked rapidly a few times in order to keep them at bay. "Do you really need what happened with Jessica to repeat itself before you finally understand?"

"Finally understand _what_, Carter?" His voice was tight and barely audible.

Joss stood and came to stand beside his chair, looking down at his tense, motionless figure with a sigh. "You are not the darkness in our lives, John. You are living proof that there is such a thing as redemption and hope. I meant it when I told Donnelly that you're a good man. I wouldn't have done everything I did for you at Riker's if I didn't believe with all my heart that keeping you in this world, doing what you do, was the right choice."

"You almost lost everything." He looked up at her, and she saw the sheen of unshed tears in his eyes. He had looked at her the same way after Donnelly had caught them together at the bridge. Regret and guilt were, after all, the emotions he was most familiar with.

"Yes I did." Joss lifted her hand to tenderly cup his cheek, the first time she had ever touched him in that way. He first tensed and then relaxed into her hand, his head tilting slightly to increase the amount of physical contact between them. "And if I _had_ lost everything, it would have been for the very best reasons. I don't regret anything I've done for you, John Reese. You need to stop living as though you're constantly apologizing for even existing. The world is better because of you. Do you hear me?" Her thumb stroked his jawline. "You don't have to prove to anyone that you deserve the life you have now. You're earning it with every person you rescue, every person you make feel a little more secure, every person you show that they are worth saving. _You_ are worth saving."

John placed his hand over her smaller one, slowly interweaving their fingers. "Do you remember when we met?"

She wrinkled her nose at his seemingly unrelated question. "Yeah, of course. They brought you to the precinct after you beat up Anton O'Mara and his little friends on the subway."

"You were the first person to see me, Joss. To _really_ see me. After I met Finch…after he gave me this job, I kept thinking about you. I started following you around even though that was the last thing I should've done. And I saw that you do the same thing with every person you meet that you did with me."

"The same thing…?"

"You change people. Make them want to be better." John watched as her cheeks darkened into a flush at the praise he was giving. "If I'm any kind of good for the world, it's because _you_ showed me how to be. You've been feeling as though you're all alone dealing with HR. What do you need from me? What do you need us to do for you?"

She shrugged and took a step back from him. "Not sure what's had you and Finch so preoccupied lately but what I need is for you to start paying attention to what's going on in your own backyard, John. This city is going to rot from the inside out if we can't stop HR, Elias, the Russians..."

"I'll get Finch on surveillance as soon as I can."

Joss exhaled a breath of relief. "Thank you." He pushed his untouched glass of wine further away from him on the table and stood, fixing her with such an unwavering, penetrating gaze that she frowned in concern. "…What?"

John extended his hand to grasp hers once more. "I will never let what happened to Jessica happen to you. That cycle you were talking about? It ends now…with us."

"No more pushing me away?"

"We'll be closer than ever."

One of her eyebrows rose. "Well…good." He took a step closer to her and she cleared her throat uneasily. Hand-holding and face-touching was one thing. The way he was looking at her was almost sinful. "So this was a nice chat, John. I'm sure we'll talk again real soon."

John's mouth covered hers, effectively muffling her surprised (and very un-Detective-Carter-like) squeak. His tongue probed between her lips until they parted. He placed his hands on either side of her waist as the kiss deepened, pulling her even closer so she could feel how she was affecting him.

Joss had always dreamed of grabbing John Reese by the collar of his crisp white shirt. Now, she had it a death-grip in an attempt to keep her hands from roaming all over his tall, strong form. Eventually running out of breath, she jerked her lips away from his. "I see what you meant about being closer than ever. What the hell was that, John?"

"Consider it a renewal of my promise to you." He leaned forward for a quick peck. "You'll never be alone again, Joss. You're never even going to _feel_ alone."

"So I get my stalker back."

"Full-time."

"Full-time," she repeated, lowering her eyes to the contact they still had between their lower bodies. "Does that include nights?"

When her gaze flicked back up to his face, he smiled at the new sparkle there. "It could."

**_I know it ain't easy giving up your heart_**

**_I know it ain't easy giving up your heart_**

**I just had to add the random fluff at the end. Hope you enjoyed this newest one-shot. Continue leaving awesome reviews with song suggestions and prompts!**


	6. Butterflies

**Author's Note: **This one-shot takes place after the events of "Baby Blue". I got inspired to write this after watching "Identity Crisis" and seeing how persistent Reese was in contacting Carter. This is _very_ loosely based on Michael Jackson's "Butterflies". Thank you, lovemboth, for the song suggestion!

_Her hands slick with the blood of the detective lying between her and John, Joss grabbed her walkie from the floor and raised it to her lips. "I need a bus at Jefferson Avenue in Queens. Officer down with a gunshot to the abdomen. I repeat, officer down!" _

_ Detective Bill Syzmanski let out a painful breath as she pressed a kitchen rag to his stomach in an attempt to stop further blood loss. John refused to look down at the wounded man, instead looking somewhere above Joss's head while he asked, "Moretti?"_

_ "They got him." John winced and let out a frustrated groan. Joss tore her saddened gaze away from Syzmanski to pin him with it. "How did Elias know?"_

_ John blinked his eyes rapidly, not wanting to tell her the truth but realizing that she had to already know what a devastating mistake he'd been forced to make. Finally, he met her gaze. "I told him." Her expression immediately became even more distressed, and he quickly explained, "I had to give up the safe house to save the baby."_

_ Joss shook her head slowly from side to side. "John, why were you even talking to Elias?"_

_ His eyes were pleading with her to understand. "I had no choice. We lost the kid."_

_ She turned her face away from him with a short exasperated breath. All of the times that she had warned him that his way wasn't necessarily the right way. All of the times that she had tried to make him see that one day his actions would have devastating consequences. And here it was. Devastating consequences. Joss took a deep breath. "You say there was no choice. But there was, John. It's called the police. It's what we do."_

_ Bill Syzmanski was a good detective, one of the few at her precinct that she trusted wholeheartedly. He didn't deserve to suffer the consequences of careless vigilantism. Joss applied more pressure to his gunshot wound, looking down at the man apologetically. The angry red marks encircling John's wrists caught her attention and she sighed. He genuinely thought there was no other way to save the baby, and with the corruption that pervaded the NYPD, she could hardly blame him for wanting to keep them out of it. That didn't explain shutting her out though. It certainly didn't explain why he couldn't seem to trust her enough to let her help him. _

_ "I can't do this anymore." The words left her mouth before she even realized she was speaking them. Her movements became jerky and panicked as she continued. "I can't. You and your friend..."_

_ John watched her face intently, feeling his entire world slow down. His entire being was screaming at her and begging her not to say what he knew she was going to say. _

_ "I'm sorry." She looked up toward the door at the sound of sirens nearby. "Go on. This place will be swarming."_

_ He was directly responsible for one of her most trusted colleagues bleeding out on the floor and she was still working to protect him. His blue eyes were arrested by the conflicting emotions in her dark ones. John felt paralyzed, torn between wanting to stay and further explain his actions to her and wanting to run away from her disappointment. _

_ Joss's brows furrowed. He wasn't moving. Why wasn't he moving? "Go." Still nothing. She put all of her anger and distress into her voice. "Go!"_

_ He immediately rose to his feet and left the safe house the same way that he had come in. Joss steeled herself against the desire to watch him go. Their partnership, or whatever it had been, was over. This time that the Man in the Suit walked away, she wasn't going to chase him. _

**_All you gotta do is just walk away and pass me by_**

**_Don't acknowledge my smile when I try to stay hello to you_**

**_And all you gotta do is not answer my calls when I'm trying to get through_**

**_To keep me wondering why, when all I can do is sigh_**

**_I just wanna touch you_**

**The Library**

"Good morning, Mr. Reese." Standing in front of the glass pane they had set up for any paperwork on the numbers, Harold did not turn to greet him.

John shrugged, not offended by the lack of a warm reception. "If you say so." He held a pink bakery box in one hand, a cup holder carrying two hot coffees in the other.

Harold finally tore his gaze away from the information he was studying and stiffly reached out to take the box. "Any croquillant in here?" He flipped open the lid.

"If that's a doughnut, then yes." John set the coffees down near Harold's computer and grabbed one from the holder. He walked forward to join him in front of the glass. "So, what've we got?"

Harold handed back the box after grabbing an eagerly anticipated pastry, sighing disappointedly at the scarce information he had found. "Nothing much unfortunately. The Machine kicked out a number that has one of the smallest digital footprints I've ever seen."

Never one to wait until things cooled down, John took a big gulp of scalding hot coffee and sat down in a nearby chair. "No photos?"

"Not everyone in New York has a driver's license, Mr. Reese." Harold frowned. "The first three digits of the social security number suggest that Jordan Hester was born in Georgia."

John raised an eyebrow. "I'm supposed to recognize him by his Southern accent?"

"Or her. I can't even verify the gender. Hester's living off the grid. No photos online and nothing on social media."

"I never understood why people put all their information on those sites." John grinned. "It used to make our jobs a lot easier in the CIA."

Harold turned to him after taking a bite out of his doughnut. "Of course. That's why I created them."

There was a beat of silence as John stared at the older man in poorly hidden disbelief. "You're telling me that you invented online social networking, Finch?" He rose from the chair so that Harold could be seated.

"The machine needed more information." Harold complied, taking his usual place in front of the monitors. "The government had been trying to figure out how to more easily access people's connections for years. Turns out most were happy to volunteer personal information. Business wound up being quite profitable too." He narrowed his eyes at the main computer screen where a list of all the users of a main social networking site whose names began with J was displayed. "Unfortunately, Jordan Hester seems to be more cautious than most. However, I _was_ able to run a credit check."

They both turned their attention back to the print-outs on the glass. John tapped one of the papers. "According to this, Hester's got two of everything. Two bank accounts. Two apartments. Two phone bills."

Harold nodded. "If I had to guess, which you know I hate doing…I'd say we're looking at a person leading a double life."

"Can't cover them both." John walked over to where Harold's jacket was draped across the top of a bookshelf and handed it to him. "Time for you to get some fresh air. I'll call Carter and see if our guy…or girl has a criminal record."

Harold looked up at him apprehensively as he speed-dialed Carter's phone. "Is that a good idea?" John held the phone slightly away from his ear and waited for Harold to continue. The bespectacled man gave a small shrug, chewing his doughnut pensively. "Detective Carter's not exactly your number one fan right now."

"That doesn't mean she'll stop helping the numbers."

"As you'll recall, the detective's life has always been devoted to helping the numbers, Mr. Reese. It's helping _us_ that has become somewhat of a moral dilemma for her."

The phone was still ringing. John frowned. She would have picked up by now. With Joss, it was always answer at the first ring or not at all. He lowered the phone as her voicemail message began, ended the call, and started to re-dial.

"Mr. Reese." Harold stood from his chair and pulled on his jacket. "I believe we will be working this case without Detective Carter's assistance."

John watched him reach for his untouched cup of coffee and walk jerkily toward the Library staircase. Slowly, he returned his phone to his coat pocket and followed.

* * *

"Lo and behold, Detective Carter! Showing up for an _actual_ homicide investigation? What, are you done chasing around your mystery man?"

Joss dropped her phone into her blazer's front pocket and raised an amused brow at the man walking toward her. "Detective Terney. Good morning to you too." She looked down at the body of a young man on the ground. "What've we got?"

Terney sighed but his face still retained its humor. "African-American male. Seventeen years old. He was dead on arrival, thanks to this genius over here." They walked further under the bridge together; she could make out the silhouettes of two police officers handcuffing a still-scuffling young man. Terney continued, "They got into an argument over a girl, but this is an opened-and-closed case. The kid already confessed."

A police officer restrained the young woman from attacking the handcuffed perp. Joss frowned. "Did he say why he did it?"

Terney nodded. "He said, and I quote, 'what was I supposed to do?' And then he said that it was our fault."

Of course it was. "Yeah? How does that follow?"

"Said we weren't here to stop him."

Joss looked down at the body once more. It was back to the way it was before she was helping John Reese. It was back to getting at the scene too late. No more happy endings. No more crises averted. She was back to being a homicide detective investigating murders because she couldn't prevent them.

She and Terney both jolted a bit at the sudden sound of her phone ringing. Joss pulled it back out of her blazer with an apologetic smile, turning away from the other detective for privacy. "Excuse me."

"No problem."

Incoming call. Number withheld. She took a deep breath and ignored the call. He was still trying to use her as an asset. Apparently yelling at him over the body of a wounded fellow detective wasn't enough of a hint that she was done. He and Finch had good intentions, a life saved was a life saved in her book, no matter the methods. However, it was about time that John Reese realized that this wasn't the CIA anymore. No one was coming after him to clean up the mess he made. She wasn't going to let him make a mess out of her life and make mistakes that cost the lives of good people like Szymanski.

She turned back toward Terney; the other detective was motioning for officer holding the young woman to bring her over to them. Rolling her shoulders to release some of the tension that had been gathering there, Joss prepared herself for her return to the way things were.

* * *

**Jordan Hester's Brooklyn/Greenwich Village Apartments**

_"I know you've continued to call the detective, Mr. Reese. Any response from her yet?"_

John used his gun's handle to hammer one of his trusty bump keys into the doorknob of Jordan Hester's apartment building. The door easily swung open after a single twist. He headed toward the stairs with long strides. "She's still not answering my calls."

_ "Calls? Plural. You're being quite persistent. I must remind you that we're not dependent on Detective Carter for help. We can ask for Detective Fusco's assistance if necessary."_

"Maybe you should try calling her, Finch. She might answer you," John replied, blatantly ignoring Harold's suggestion.

_"Carter's issue isn't with you, Mr. Reese. It's with your methods...our methods." _There was a pause as Harold unscrambled the lock on Jordan Hester's door in their number's alternative residence in Greenwich Village. John could hear his footsteps as he entered the apartment. _"Not to mention the fact that you gave up a witness under her protection and nearly got a cop killed in the process."_

Just the words John didn't want to hear. He walked further into Hester's apartment, tilting his head to the side in annoyance. "Nobody's perfect, Finch."

_"Yes. You've effectively conveyed that point to Detective Carter. This is very Bohemian," _Harold commented on the décor of Hester's Village apartment. _"Maybe Hester is an artist or a writer. No photos that I can see though. What are you seeing?"_

"It's very Spartan." John stepped carefully around the small apartment. "Just a desk, mattress, weight-lifting equipment…not much else." He bent to open one of the desk drawers. "And you know, Carter knew about our methods when she volunteered to help us. She knew the risks."

_"Knowing the risks of working with us and suffering the consequences of working with us are two quite different things, Mr. Reese. Also, I may be standing in Hester's office. That could explain the disparate furnishings."_

"An office in a different apartment building?" John noticed something toward the front of the drawer and pulled it out for closer inspection. "I found a money roll with Hester's initials on it. Mostly small bills though. I'm about to go through his garbage. I can see a bunch of receipts." The first he lifted out of the small garbage can near the desk was from a pub just around the corner from the apartment, The Hammer 'N' Ale. The money was probably from a tip roll.

John shoved the receipt into his pocket and straightened. "I'm on my way to a nearby pub where Hester might work. The receipts show an employee discount. Try calling Carter for me."

_"For what purpose? She clearly wants nothing to do with…"_

"Just do it, Finch."

* * *

**8th Precinct **

**Manhattan**

It wasn't often that Joss looked over at her partner's desk and saw Lionel Fusco actually working, so when she came back from lunch and saw him intently reading paperwork with two pictures propped up on his computer monitor, her curiosity was piqued. She passed his desk on the way to her own, using the opportunity to get a better look at the photographs. "Double homicide, Fusco?"

He looked up at her as she sank down into her chair. "I'm just doing a favor for a friend over at vice." His eyes narrowed from over the frames of his reading glasses. "Ever worked an identity theft case before?"

"Sure. Every arrest I've ever made." She pulled out some paperwork that she'd been working on earlier that morning and reached out to grab a pen from the cup on her desk. "They all say I've got the wrong guy."

Both detectives chuckled. Joss's smile gradually disappeared as she read over her own report, a homicide case involving a son who had shot his own brother because of a simple misunderstanding. "Must be nice…helping out people who are still alive."

Lionel looked back up at his partner, concerned by the sadness and disappointment in her voice. She eventually felt his worried gaze and met his eyes. He frowned. "Everything okay?"

Her response was interrupted by the sound of a somewhat familiar deep voice. "Detective Carter."

She turned in her chair to see a man approach from her captain's office. He came to stand over her like an imposing statue. "I'm Special Agent Donnelly. We worked together on the Delancey shooting last month."

"Right. Of course." There was no forgetting that voice or those basset hound eyes. She gave a polite smile. "What brings you back to this precinct?"

"You do actually. Got a moment?"

After a brief glance at Lionel, Joss nodded and led the way into the closest interrogation room. Donnelly placed an FBI file and his briefcase on the table while she closed the door. She turned back to him with a confused frown. "What's this about?" She couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive considering that the last agent to visit her was Mark Snow.

"You sent a set of fingerprints through AFIS a few months back."

Joss let out a relieved chuckle. "I work homicide. That tends to happen from time to time."

"Well these caught our attention." Donnelly slid the Bureau file closer to him and flipped it open, rifling through the papers inside. "In your reports, you refer to him as the Man in the Suit. We think this may be the same man who assaulted my team and kidnapped a suspect in our custody."

It was the Delancey case come back to haunt them. The relieved feelings had all but disappeared. "The way I remember it, the suspect was later cleared of all charges."

"That's beside the point, detective." She shifted uncomfortably at the agent's hard tone; he was quick to continue. "Now, our agents believe that this man may be connected to dozens of unsolved homicides and assaults over the years. Many of them occurred here in New York in the last six months." Donnelly began pulling out crime scene and surveillance photographs, laying them down in front of her on the table. "Series of bank robberies involving ex-military. Shootings of gang leaders and drug dealers. He's even killed police officers."

Joss met his eyes, suddenly quite certain that it wasn't John who was the perpetrator. Killing police wasn't his style.

Donnelly paced back toward his briefcase. "You speculated based on your initial interview with this man that he was former military, maybe Special Forces."

She lowered her gaze to the floor, wanting to be done with the conversation and out of the room more than anything. "It's all in my reports."

Donnelly grinned humorlessly. "No. No, it's not. Not by a long shot." He leaned forward to grab the photographs from the table. "When can you spare me an hour? I've got something to show you."

* * *

**Classified Location**

**Manhattan**

Joss waited until she was outside of the building that Donnelly and his fellow agents were using as a temporary home base to breathe again. If Mark Snow seemed determined to find the Man in the Suit, Nicholas Donnelly was obsessed. Understandably, he didn't take too lightly to vigilantes who took suspects out of his custody by violently intercepting transport vans. She pulled out her phone and then paused. If John had done half of things that Donnelly was investigating him from, he deserved whatever was coming his way. Still, she had believed the worst of him once before and been absolutely wrong.

As soon as she dialed the familiar number, Joss could feel her heart start beating in double time. Contacting him was a mistake. It would give him false hope, and after the ten calls that she'd ignored in the past twelve hours, she knew that he was craving some kind of reassurance that she would eventually come back to his side.

He answered on the first ring; she was almost startled by the sudden sound of his low voice. "Carter. I was beginning to…"

"Court Square Diner. You know where that is?"

She could tell by the slight pause that followed that he was taken aback by her short tone. He eventually answered, "I'm sure I'll be able to find it without much of a problem."

"I'll meet you there in an hour." She hung up before he could say another word.

* * *

**Court Square Diner**

John arrived at the diner first. He slid into a booth closer to the back of the restaurant, choosing the side that faced the entrance, and ordered a cup of coffee from the waitress who quickly came over to serve him. The caffeine from the cup he'd had that morning must have worn off sometime between realizing that Finch was alone with an ecstasy dealer and seeing the look of absolute horror on the woman's face when she was finally apprehended by the NYPD.

Detective Carter was certainly angry with him. He should have realized that she wouldn't get over her betrayal as quickly as he'd gotten over hers. The waitress set the coffee in front of him, and he sipped it while staring out of the window beside the booth. It wasn't fair to equate the two betrayals really. She thought she was doing the right thing, and if there was one thing he'd learned about Detective Jocelyn Carter, it was that she lived for the chance to do the right thing. Her very existence seemed to be dependent on a need to protect others. His betrayal was that he had taken that away from her by endangering those in her care.

"Cup of coffee please. Two sugars and cream. Thank you."

John turned his attention back to the interior of the diner at the sound of her voice. She sank into the booth across from him, and he watched her set folded hands on top of the table. Neither of them spoke. They just observed each other in silence.

Finally, he decided to make an observation. "You look tired, detective."

Something in her eyes shifted. Sadness made way for that same righteous anger he had seen in her gaze when they were kneeling on either side of Szymanski. Her lips parted for a moment, closed, and then pursed. The waitress set down her cup of coffee; the only acknowledgement Joss gave the woman was a slight nod. She waited until the waitress had walked away to respond to John, "Don't speak. Just listen." One of his eyebrows quirked upward but he remained silent. "The FBI agent that you stole Simon Powell from, the one who was investigating Congressman Michael Delancey's shooting, he's looking for you now. He knows that you were once in the CIA…now he thinks you're some kind of mercenary working for Elias." She paused for a moment and then continued with a sigh, "Agent Donnelly has extended the Bureau's services to me so I can find the Man in the Suit. They're going back through any of the cases that fit your M.O., re-interviewing witnesses, looking at physical evidence…I know they have the fingerprints I processed when we first met. I don't know how much more of your DNA is on file."

Joss searched his eyes; he seemed to be unperturbed by her news. She wrapped her hands on either side of her coffee, letting the warmth ease her tension somewhat. "I'll try to make sure he doesn't get too close to you. I just...wanted you to be aware that you're a wanted man again."

John stayed silent, not being sure if she was finished and not wanting to interrupt her. She raised her cup to her lips and took a long slow sip. He felt his gaze become fixated on the smooth column of her neck. When she lowered the cup once more, he dragged his gaze away, focusing instead on the traffic outside of the window. It seemed safer than his unanticipated musings of how her skin would feel under his lips.

She got up from the booth so quietly that he would've missed her leaving the diner if it wasn't for the tinkling of the small bell above the door. He jogged to catch up with her after hastily assuring the waitress that he would be back to pay.

By the time he caught up with her, she was already nearing her car in the diner's small parking lot. A gentle hand on her arm stopped her from taking her keys out of her pocket. "Why are you walking away again, Carter?"

Joss turned to face him. "Nothing's changed, John."

"You'll keep me out of jail but you won't help me save lives." He narrowed his eyes. "Is there a line that's _not_ being crossed there?" She looked down at his hand, still on her arm, and he quickly released her so that she could open her car door. "I never said that my methods were by-the-book, detective, and you knew that we'd be operating in some pretty gray areas so why…?"

The car door was slammed shut once more; suddenly he was shoved back against it. Joss glared up at him. "You call a detective being ambushed and a baby being kidnapped by Elias a gray area? What, those are just hazards of the job because nobody's perfect? Everyone makes mistakes?" He winced at his words being thrown back at him, and she stepped back with a shake of her head. "You don't get to make _those_ kinds of mistakes, John. Not if you're gonna say that you're helping people. You don't get to endanger the lives of innocents just so you can stay in your own little bubble and not trust anyone. This isn't the CIA. You're not on your own, and I am not some mindless asset who has to go along with your not-so by-the-book way of getting things done."

John felt his gaze harden as he looked down at her, felt his walls go up in defense. "I don't have to answer to you, Carter. I don't have to apologize to you."

"Then get out of my way and let's end this once and for all. Stop calling me. Stop having _Finch_ call me. And for God's sake, stop following me." She inhaled raggedly, her voice lowered into a whisper. "I have a son...and I can't afford to have someone like you in my life."

"Someone like me." He straightened a bit so that he was at his full height, well aware of how threatening the motion was. To her credit, the detective barely looked bothered. "You're a homicide detective with hundreds of people who might want you dead someday and I'm too dangerous to have in your life?" John took a small step toward her so that the fronts of their open jackets were brushing by each other. "You wanna know what I think, Carter?" The look in her eyes told him just how little she cared about what he thought but he continued anyway, "I think you're just scared that your straight-and-narrow path might not be good enough anymore. You're surrounded by corruption, aren't you?"

"Get out of my way." She planted a hand on his chest and pushed.

John wasn't budging. "You're in the middle of all that corruption, and the one person who tells you that you're not alone is an ex-CIA operative who makes deals with crime bosses to save lives. That bothers you, doesn't it, Joss?

"Don't call me that and get the hell out of my way."

"Maybe the reason why you're walking away is because you're finally beginning to understand that the world can't always be black and white, right and wrong. There _are_ some gray areas." His voice softened as he felt himself start to need her understanding. "I made a mistake and Syzmanski got shot. Elias got Moretti. But guess what, Joss? A baby is alive. She's safe and sound. Sammy and Veda Cruz get to see their grandchild grow up. That has to count for something."

Joss paused in her next attempt to push him out of the way, allowing her hand to simply rest on his chest as she looked up at him. A life saved was still a life saved. "Of course that counts for something," she whispered. John visibly relaxed, and she lowered her hand to her side. "It's one of the reasons why I'm not going to let Donnelly lock you up."

He looked down at her in silence for a moment and then slowly moved to the side so she could open her car door. Joss got into her car, started the engine, and looked back up at him. "Don't call me again, John. Let it be over."

John pushed the car door closed, never breaking eye contact with her. He didn't turn back toward the diner until she had pulled out of the parking lot and was out of sight.

**Well, there's your daily dose of angst. Not that we needed any more of that with the season 2 finale coming up this Thursday. (Prayer circle for Detective Carter). Review and leave prompt/song suggestions! Thank you for all of your reviews so far!**


	7. Dance With The Devil

**Author's Note: **Alright Irrelevants, here we are in the summer hiatus before S3! I'm so excited to see what happens next season with Carter's storyline. This one-shot is based off of neal4grissom's song suggestion: "Dance With The Devil" by Breaking Benjamin. It's also based off of our initial fears that HR was going to hurt Carter in the finale. (Thank goodness that didn't happen!) I added the Carter badassery after seeing how amazing she was in "God Mode".

**_Here I stand, helpless and left for dead_**

Joss stumbled backward as the black hood was snatched from her head. The sound of a twig snapping beneath her feet informed of her surroundings even before her eyes became accustomed to the darkness. She narrowed her eyes at Terney. "Is this how you guys in HR dispose of people who get too close? Kidnap them and bring them to the middle of some forest?"

The other detective chuckled. He always seemed to find humor in every situation, no matter how macabre. "Actually, Carter, this is me improvising. I meant to get rid of you the other night but…" He grinned, eyes gleaming cruelly at her in the moonlight. "You just had to shoot an unarmed man and force me to start a whole investigation about your incompetence." She surged forward and he backhanded her across the face, causing her to fall heavily. "Don't be dramatic about this, detective. You knew this was coming, right? We couldn't let you continue snooping around in HR business."

His blow had taken her off-guard and caused her to bite the inside of her cheek. Propping herself up on her elbows, Joss dismissed the pain despite the taste of blood in her mouth. "There's no place for HR in our line of work, Terney. Your organization operates by taking advantage of the people we promised to protect and serve. You all deserve to be behind bars."

"No place for us? Lady, there's no place for _you_." Terney withdrew his Heckler & Koch pistol, grimacing down at her. "Your way just doesn't work anymore, Carter. You think we'd get half the stuff done that we get done if we didn't ask for favors? Utilize our political connections? Make a few compromises? This city would be overrun without people like us."

"You actually think you're doing the right thing, don't you?" Joss slowly stood, brushing away stray blades of grass from her slacks.

He watched her keenly. "The trash on the streets of New York aren't afraid of goody goodies like you. They run from _us_ because they know we're not afraid to bend a few rules. It's not all black and white. We do what's necessary."

Not all black and white. Doing what was necessary. She lowered her gaze to the ground and sighed. She'd heard it all before. Somehow within the past year, she had become the poster child for operating within a gray area as a straight-lace detective with a solid record assisting a vigilante on the run from the CIA, FBI, and countless other agencies.

And where was the vigilante? Where was the Man in the Suit? The stillness of the woods answered her question for her. He certainly was maintaining his record of never saving her on time. It was funny really. He was always too late for her, but he eventually came. When Bottle Cap had shot her, he'd appeared suddenly like some angel of death to stop him from finishing the job. He had arrived at Taylor's school too late to prevent her son's kidnapping, but he got him back from Elias that very day. His late trend had started long before whatever it was that he and Finch were concerned with now.

Terney interrupted her musings by noisily clearing his throat. "If you're done reflecting on your life, Carter, I'd like to shoot you now."

"With the state that my life is in at the moment, any reflection would be sure to give me one hell of a headache." Joss glanced around as though assuring herself that no one was coming to save her, took a deep breath, and charged at him.

The sound of a gunshot echoed through the woods.

**_Close your eyes, so many days go by_**

**_Easy to find what's wrong_**

**_Harder to find what's right_**

_The first time John Reese touched her, Joss was lying on the ground after being shot by her CI at close range. The bullet had embedded itself deeply into her vest, the vest that he had warned her to wear, causing her breath to come out in short pained gasps. Admittedly, her initial thought as he knelt beside her in the dark alleyway was that her chest hurt like hell and it was all Elias' fault. Not the Man in the Suit's. _

_ Then came the shock that it wasn't his fault. For the better half of the year, she had been doggedly searching for him, this ghost of a man who left young gun dealers beaten and harmless and rescued an abused wife from her homicidal husband. It was beginning to dawn on Joss that she wasn't searching for him because he should be locked up. She wanted to see him again. She wanted to sit across from the Man in the Suit six months after he'd walked out of her precinct and see those brilliant blue eyes unclouded by a haze of liquor. She wanted to make sure that he started anew from whatever horrors he'd been running from. This suicide mission he was on couldn't end well for him._

_ It was almost funny in a way. She'd warned him that he would wind up bleeding out somewhere and yet here she was, writhing on the ground while he comforted her with a warm hand on her shoulder. _

_ She wrestled open the buttons of her jacket in an attempt to give her heavily bruised lungs a break. The Man in the Suit let out a small breath. "Glad you took my advice about wearing that vest, detective." There was relief in his voice, Joss noticed. He had shot Bottle Cap thinking that her informant had killed her. _

_ He'd come to her rescue. _

_ She stared up at him as he continued to speak, greedily sucking in whatever air she could get. "I know this doesn't change anything. I know you'll still arrest me if you get the chance. But you should know…" His hand tightened its grip as her face contorted after an especially painful breath. "Whether you like it or not, Joss, you're not alone."_

_ He stayed for a bit longer, silent and watching. Their silence was almost comforting. His presence beside her felt natural somehow. It wasn't until he heard the sirens approaching that the Man in the Suit stood and slowly made his way back out of the alleyway._

_ It wasn't until Joss was back at her apartment, stripping off her restricting vest and wondering how Taylor was enjoying his school's Homecoming dance, that she realized what the Man in the Suit had called her. _

_ He'd cared enough to find out her first name. _

**_I believe in you_**

**_I can show you that I can see right through all your empty lies_**

**_I won't stay long in this world so wrong_**

For the second time, Joss staggered back, though she quickly recovered to deliver a right hook to Terney's jaw. He dropped the gun to the ground seconds before falling to his knees. Not taking any chances, Joss dove for it. As soon as her hand wrapped around its grip, she had it aimed at Terney's head. "Don't move. Damn it, don't even think about moving."

He raised his hands as if in surrender. "Hey Carter, c'mon." His eyes narrowed when he saw how steadily she was holding the firearm. "You're really gonna shoot me?"

"You framed me so it looked like I was too incompetent and trigger-happy to do my job. You threatened my partner. You were gonna shoot _me_. Most importantly though…" The anger that she'd felt when he had sneered down at her in the interrogation room earlier that day returned and she tightened her grip on the pistol. "You threatened my son. I'll do what I have to do to keep him safe."

Terney gave a little shrug. "Alright. Let's calm down. I've got a kid too, y'know. I know you, Carter. I know how you operate. Straight and narrow. Always doing what's right. You're not gonna leave _my_ kid without a father, are you, detective?"

Joss backhanded him so hard she felt the tremor from the blow radiate up her arm. He fell backward with a grunt and didn't raise himself up again. She glared down at him. "You were gonna leave my kid without a mother. Seems almost fair." Apart from some groans, Terney was unresponsive.

The gun lifted once again but was quickly lowered when Joss felt quite another kind of pain radiate through her body. Careful to keep the other detective's prostrate form in sight, she lightly pressed her side, eyes widening slightly when she withdrew her hand and saw that her fingers were slick with blood. "Son of a bitch…"

Just as Terney had done, she slowly sank to her knees. Her hand returned to the gunshot wound and applied as much pressure as she could stand. Joss gritted her teeth against the pain. It wasn't just a graze. Shock had prevented her from realizing that she'd been shot through and through at close range.

Shot by a colleague in the middle of the woods. Hell of a way to go out.

**_Say goodbye as we dance with the devil tonight_**

**_Don't you dare look at him in the eye _**

"Finch, where the hell is she?" John walked quickly and quietly through the forest, his eyes carefully scanning every inch of his surroundings. He'd come as soon as the Machine had spit out Joss' number. It was the same place that IAB officer Davidson had taken Lionel after he found the detective shredding Michael Cahill's file. HR had their particular haunts. If Joss was in danger, this was where they would have taken her.

_"I am doing my best to track the detective's phone, Mr. Reese. There's not much signal, you know."_ Back at the Library, Harold briefly looked away from his computer screens. _"John…whatever has happened with Detective Carter…it's not your fault."_

John shook his head. "I told her to go after Beecher's killer, Finch. I knew HR would retaliate, I just…I thought we had more time before they acted. I thought we'd be able to help her before they...Wait." His head tilted to the side at the sound of movement fairly close by.

_"Look to your right. I was able to track the signal from the phone of the detective who was last seen with her. Detective Terney. Looking into his past…he's even deeper with HR than our own Detective Fusco was."_

John immediately changed direction, increasing his pace until he was jogging. It wasn't long before he saw two figures on the ground.

**_Hold on_**

**_Hold on_**

She'd been trying to get toward the SUV Terney had driven them in but eventually stopped her slow crawl toward the vehicle in favor of propping herself up against its front tire. No need to hurry. No one was looking for them. There was no need to. All her captain and the officers from IAB knew was that Detective Terney had offered to drive her home from the precinct. He played the part of the courteous colleague despite the fact that only an hour earlier he'd told her to keep her mouth shut and let HR control her life. Joss closed her eyes and smiled. HR had another thing coming if they thought this was over.

"Joss!"

One eyebrow lifted quizzically at the sound of the familiar voice coming toward her. It sounded like John. Her face was cradled tenderly between two hands. Then, the hands were pulling at her jacket, searching for the source of the blood staining her shirt. Fighting the extreme tired feeling that had suddenly washed over her, she opened her eyes. "John." Her nose wrinkled at how far away and thick her voice sounded. "Is everything okay?"

He stopped his examination to frown at her. "What?"

"Earlier…you called and I heard sirens in the background. Is everything okay?"

She was sitting in the middle of the woods with a gunshot wound to the side and her first question was if a police chase went alright. John sighed, shrugged off his light coat and gently leaned her forward so he could drape it around her shoulders. "Everything is fine. I'm just worried about _you_ now." He glanced over his shoulder at the man lying on the ground nearby. "Is that Detective Terney?"

"Yeah."

"He shot you?"

"Well, I really don't think I shot myself, John."

He clenched his jaw. "You were talking to him the other night…I should've taken him out right then and there."

"You didn't know he was dirty. _I_ didn't even know he was dirty." Joss lifted a hand to rest on his arm and return his attention to her. "Thank you for coming, John. I honestly didn't think you would make it."

"Is it because I'm always late when it comes to you?"

The undercurrent of frustration and bitterness in his voice didn't escape her notice. "You came. I think that's what matters."

He watched her eyes start to droop and placed a hand at the small of her back and underneath her legs. "I've gotta get you to a hospital."

Joss hissed in pain as he stood with her in his arms. She rested her forehead against chest, eyes tightly closed. "Won't they ask questions?"

"Don't worry." He tapped his earpiece. "I've got Carter, Finch. Can you have Dr. Madani meet us somewhere?"

_"Certainly. I'll call him right away. Go to the nearest safe house, Mr. Reese. We'll both meet you there."_

"See?" John grinned reassuringly as he pulled open the SUV's passenger door and carefully set her in the seat. "We've got it handled, Joss." He closed the car door.

Her hooded gaze followed him as he rounded the car and jumped into the driver's seat. Her Man in the Suit was always too late but he always handled it once he arrived. He constantly proved that she wasn't on her own. No matter how far away he seemed, he was looking after her.

He drove quickly back into the city, and Joss eagerly let sleep take her away from the pain, a small smile on her face.

**I feel like this song is much more angsty than I made the prompt, but I couldn't help but make things okay for them in the end. (Honestly, I think it's I'm still super happy about the Carter/Reese phone conversation in "God Mode"). I hope you liked the one-shot, neal4grissom! **

**Please review with prompts! **


	8. Alone Together

**Author's Note: **This one-shot is based on the events of the season 2 finale "God Mode" and a great song suggestion from lala2002: Daley's "Alone Together" featuring Marsha Ambrosius. I wanted to show Reese's possible reaction to hearing that Carter saved Elias from HR and the Russians.

**_You're the desert sand; I'll be your water_**

**_You're the perfect plan I never thought of_**

**10:43PM**

"What were you _thinking_?" John shouldered his way past Joss into the loft. Understandably, after the events of the last twenty-four hours, she was a bit hesitant to go home to her apartment. Harold had quickly directed her to a luxury apartment building that he bought a few weeks prior.

She stepped to the side in an attempt to avoid being trampled, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. "Nice to see you too, John. Come on in."

He waited until she closed the door once more and then took her by the shoulders. "Carl Elias is a glorified mob boss, and you rescued him."

"HR and Yogorov intercepted the prison transport van. They planned to kill him. He was sentenced to life in jail, John, and that's where he should be. In jail. Not dead and six feet under." Joss folded her arms against her chest, looking up at him defiantly. "At least, not yet."

"You shot a detective, Joss. You shot Peter Yogorov. Now HR and the Russian mob are searching for whoever did it. They want to kill you for humiliating them."

"Well, excuse me for not having a better plan to get Elias away from them. I would have consulted with you and Finch but on the phone it sounded like the two of you already had your hands full." She frowned at the anger that was in his eyes. "You can't tell me that it would've been right to let them execute him. Yes, Elias is…Elias. But he's still better than Yogorov. And he has more loyalty than all the members of HR put together."

John stepped forward and took her face in his hands. Her eyes widened at the physical contact; it wasn't as though they were particularly used to touching each other, unless a casual hand on the small of her back indicated some form of intimacy. His blue eyes were unnaturally beautiful up close; the intense way he was looking at her was almost unnerving. His thumb stroked her jawline. "I remember running into an alleyway and seeing you on the ground because Elias had your CI shoot you down. I remember the fear in your voice when you told me that Elias wanted to trade your son's life for the dons. As if those lives were equal somehow. I'm not going to tell you that you shouldn't have intervened. I _wish_ you hadn't. Elias doesn't deserve to be saved by you."

"I would have thought that you, John, would be a bit more forgiving. Aren't we _all_ a result of undeserved second chances?"

He turned his head sharply toward the unexpected voice, eyes narrowing at the man emerging from the small apartment kitchen. Elias gave a small wave. Joss watched John's soft, intense gaze harden and cleared her throat anxiously. "I didn't really have a plan…"

His hands slowly lowering from her face, John turned to completely face Elias. "Joss…I don't know how to tell you this but _any_ plan would have been better than bringing him here. Where is Taylor?"

"Really? You think I would bring him here with Taylor? He's staying at a friend's house."

"Just thought I'd ask. Wasn't exactly sure just how bad the situation was." He kept his eyes trained on Elias. "You said he was supposed to be in jail. Why isn't he there?"

Joss started to answer and then glanced at Elias. He nodded. "See, John, my associates are all on the outside now. It only makes sense for me to join them."

"Does it?"

Joss moved so that she was also in John's line of sight. "They won't stop trying to get rid of him even after what happened. I bring him back to Rikers and HR will find a way to finish what Terney started. I asked Finch for the safe house so I could have a little more time to think about what to do next." She searched his eyes, hoping to see a hint of understanding.

He looked dubious at best. "You're going to protect him."

"I don't know how much time I have before the alert goes out that he's on the run. Scarface…" She glanced apologetically at Elias and corrected herself. "His associate Anthony Marconi is due to be released from the hospital tomorrow afternoon. If I can keep him alive and out of HR or Yogorov's hands until then…" Joss gave another sigh. "I know you're not gonna want to be a part of this, John. I'm just asking you to _please_ not fight me. I can't let him go back to prison without protection."

_"Mr. Reese."_

John and Joss stood regarding each other in silence for another moment before he lifted his hand to tap his earpiece. "Finch."

_"I trust Detective Carter has gotten settled in at the safe house."_

"She's here. Her _and_ her plus one."

_"I thought she was going to leave Taylor at his friend's house. Did the detective bring a guest?"_

"Right. Guest." John glared at Elias. The other man simply smiled cordially back at him. "That's one way of describing him."

_"Well I'm afraid you'll have to leave Detective Carter and her company for now. The Machine just gave us a new number. Or rather, an old number. We've assisted this one before."_

A sudden sinking feeling told John that he knew exactly who the number was. Nevertheless, he hoped he was wrong. "I know I told him I'd never do it again, but if Leon's number is up, I'll be glad to rescue him, Finch."

_"Although I'm sure he'd be glad to know about your change of heart, as far as I know, Mr. Tao has been behaving himself at his current job. No, Mr. Reese, this number is a bit more problematic. Charlie Burton. Also known as…"_

"Elias." Joss and Elias both looked at him with piqued curiosity. Elias' lips curled upward into a knowing grin as he realized the context of the conversation. John nodded. "Already on it. I'll keep you posted."

_"Already on it? How are you already…?"_

John ended the call, stepping toward Elias immediately. "If Joss gets harmed in any way because she's helping you, I will blow you away. Are we clear on that?"

"Clear as crystal, John." Elias looked between the vigilante and the detective, his grin only broadening. "This is going to be interesting."

**_A definite silence_**

**_You're almost exactly what I need_**

**_A definite maybe _**

**_Is sure to entice my curiosity_**

**11:35PM**

Elias sat down on the couch beside John, leaning forward to peer into the bedroom where Joss was calling Taylor and then settling back comfortably. "I should have known that the detective was one of your close allies, John. Of course, I assumed that there was some kind of connection. You've been acting as her protector for over a year now, and when I heard that she had come with you to Rikers, I knew she was returning the favor. Does she work alongside you and Harold? Saving lives?"

At first he was just going to let the other man ramble on, but deciding against that, John turned his face slightly in Elias' direction. "Carter does that enough on her own."

"Please. Call her Joss like you have been. It's so nice to see you have an informal relationship with someone. Makes you more human. Less like an automated death machine."

"Automated death machine," John repeated slowly.

"It's good! You have another person you can trust. Some sense of normalcy is important for people like us."

That got John's attention. His eyes narrowed coldly. "In what way could I possibly be like you?"

"We are both damaged products of our past. Those that we've lost…and I _do_ know all that you've lost, John…it seeks to control us, but we don't let it. In fact, instead we rise above it, don't we?" Elias smiled, looking at nothing in particular as he recalled the most important day of his life: the day his father and half-brother died. "I have my ambitions. You...well, you make sure that no one else suffers a loss like your own. It's admirable."

There really wasn't anything he could say in response to that. John turned his face away to stare straight ahead.

When Joss finished her call, she found the two very different men sitting beside each other in tense, total silence. One was clearly more comfortable than the other_. _She leaned against the bedroom's doorframe watching them with an amused smirk. "Good to see that you two are getting along."

Both of them rose to their feet. Elias inclined his head to each of them. "I'm going to head to bed. It's been quite the eventful twenty-four days."

Joss nodded, walking to stand beside John. "We'll let you know if anything comes up with Marconi. I'll have Fusco go over to the hospital tomorrow morning to make sure his release goes as planned."

"Thank you, detective. Good night." He made his way over to the other bedroom and closed the door softly behind himself.

Suddenly, the expansive loft felt to Joss like the size of a walk-in closet. It wasn't often that she and John were left alone without the circumstances of a shoot-out or stake-out. She peered up at him, almost shy. "You can head out if you want. I'm sure nothing's going to happen here. Finch assured me that he'd monitor the loft."

"And he will." John took off his suit jacket and draped it over his arm. "And I'll monitor the loft from right here."

"You don't have to stay."

"I do. You're not staying alone here with Elias."

"He has no weapons, John. Remember? I frisked him. You frisked him. He's clean."

"Joss." He raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm not going anywhere."

She let out a whoosh of breath to hide her groan.

**_Well, my heart's been racing, chasing after you_**

**_You're the sweetest dream, my incredible you_**

**_You're the star so bright, your eyes the lightest blue_**

**_I can't help but stare at you_**

**12:22AM**

"What were you doing when I called you earlier?"

They had stood in awkward silence for a long moment before John announced that he was hungry. Now they were both leaning back against the loft's kitchen island, each with a half-eaten slice of pepperoni pizza in one hand and a small paper plate in the other. It was probably the most casual they had ever been with each other, Joss thought. Eating pizza while the criminal mastermind under the protection slept.

He still hadn't answered her question. Because they were standing side by side, Joss had to tilt her chin upward to get a good view of his face. "John? Police were chasing you. Did it have something to do with what's been going on with you and Finch? The…lateness?" She tried to choose her words tactfully. Surely the fact that more people were dying and getting hurt was a sore subject between the two men who had dedicated their lives to keeping people safe.

John resisted the urge to look at her. Sometimes he wasn't so sure that those big doe eyes of Joss's didn't have some kind of power over him, making him want to tell her anything and everything despite the risks. But there were risks. Horrible risks. If Harold's fears were warranted, just the knowledge of the Machine and the numbers could put her and her son in terrible danger. That wasn't something he was about to do voluntarily.

Still no answer. She finally turned away, tilting her head to the side. "You know, I've had to put a lot of trust in you, John. I've had to trust that you're a good guy. I've had to trust that helping you is worth my career…even worth Taylor. I've had to trust that you'll do the right thing countless times." Joss reached behind herself to place her pizza on the counter. "I know I hunted for you, and I know that because of my actions, a year ago Snow was able to ambush you. But I…I would like to think that after what happened at Rikers… that you could trust me."

He turned to her so suddenly that she jerked back as a reflex. "I've always trusted you, Carter. From the beginning. Even after what happened with Snow."

"And yet you call me Carter. You put up these walls." Joss narrowed her eyes. "What are you keeping from me? Is it where you get your information? Is that why you've been too late these past few months?"

John also set down his plate, reaching out with both hands to grasp her arms and gently pull her closer. "This has nothing to do with trust and everything to do with keeping you safe. I decided a long time ago that if knowing where we get our information would kill you, I would die before I would ever tell you what you wanted to know. And that's just something you'll have to accept for now."

"Too much to lose," she whispered with her gaze lowered, the words an echo of what he had told her while wearing Kara Stanton's bomb vest.

He nodded. "Someone has to look after you, Joss. Make sure you don't give it _all_ away. Besides…" His sapphire eyes shifted away from her face slightly. "I refuse to lose you."

Her gaze snapped up to meet his in a stunned stare.

**_I can't help but think that this doesn't add up_**

**_I'm trying to separate the facts from all the fiction_**

**_We're living in a world of contradictions_**

**_And if, baby, you're the truth, then I'm lying next to you_**

While Joss stood staring at him in shock, John lowered one of his hands from its place on her arm to settle on her hip. The other hand lifted to trace her full lips; his touch was light and hesitant as though he couldn't believe his own actions. "You shot a fellow detective today. You shot the head of the Russian mob."

"I know." She finally blinked. "I was there, John."

"That doesn't bother you, does it? All the danger you're in."

"It's part of the job. Sometimes what I do isn't safe and convenient." Her breath caught when he took a step forward so that their bodies were touching.

John frowned. "You really do think this was all just a part of being a homicide detective. Saving the man who once tried to have you killed…all of the mess that you get caught up in because of me and Finch…Joss, you don't have to do any of it. No one else in your precinct does."

"Fusco does."

"I forced Fusco to help us after he tried to kill me for HR. And then I shot him in the back. Repeatedly. You helped us willingly."

"Well thank God you realized that shooting me in the back wouldn't make me want to cooperate." Joss dropped her chin, causing her forehead to inadvertently rest on his chest. "You put me on this pedestal, John, and you're gonna be real disappointed one day when you realize I'm not the saint you think I am."

His hands moved to her shoulders. "Compared to me…"

She lifted a fierce gaze and put a little more distance between their bodies. "We both do what our jobs require of us. You think anyone really believes that you enjoyed what Mark Snow and Kara Stanton had you do? They tried to turn you into a monster, and they failed. Now as for _me_…I've still got some muck on my boots from the year-old grave that I had to dig up." The brightness of her eyes dimmed a bit as Joss remembered moving Detective Stills' decayed corpse. The horrific sight still haunted her dreams. "I'm not quite as pure as I used to be. The line between you and me is blurring."

John was silent, staring at her in disbelief. He hated that while he and Harold dealt with the Machine's impending shutdown, Joss had been left on her own. She'd moved Detective Stills body so that Lionel wouldn't go down for a crime that he hadn't even committed. Now, because he'd been too busy, she was protecting a man who had once locked a baby into a freezer truck.

After a minute of silence, he slowly grinned down at her. "Trust me, Joss, your moral compass is still intact. You've just…adjusted." She raised an eyebrow, and he nodded. "I'm sorry that we've forced you to adjust to all of this. When I think about all the things you've had to do because we were too busy with…" John caught himself with a small groan. "We should have known that things with HR were getting so bad. We should have dealt with it. You should've been able to depend on us to handle the situation."

"I've never wanted you and Finch to _handle_ anything for me. I just need you to have my back. And Fusco could also use your support every once in a while. Despite the fact that he rarely calls you by your name, he actually really cares about you."

"How sweet."

**_I will keep you safe in my arms_**

**_I will guarantee that I will never break your heart_**

**_I'll always put you first because you deserve the world_**

**1:15AM**

"Are you tired?"

"No. Are you?"

"No. Not yet." Joss plopped down on the couch beside John, careful to leave the appropriate, professional amount of space between their bodies and curling her legs underneath herself comfortably. She watched with rapt attention as he disregarded her intentions and stretched out an arm along the back of the couch. "You're not here to watch over Elias, are you, John?"

He turned toward her, composed as always, and gave one of his signature smirks. "Like I told you before, Elias isn't a priority for me."

"He's a number. You're usually pretty good at making even the most questionable of numbers become a priority."

"You were a number once too, Joss. In fact, your number pops up about as much as Leon's because you refuse to keep yourself out of harm's way." Something told him that her number had come up within the past twenty-four hours, alerting them of her impending danger at the hands of people like Detective Terney. Her number could have come and gone without them even knowing. She could've been killed that night when she was framed for shooting a seemingly unarmed suspect or even when she'd saved Elias. And then what? He didn't even want to think about it.

If there was one thing that constantly prevented John Reese from being completely impassive, it was his eyes. Sometimes, they betrayed everything about what he was thinking and feeling whether he was aware of it or not. Right then, she could bet good money that he was thinking about how badly things could have gone. Doubtless, he was blaming himself regardless of the fact that no one else was.

Not quite sure how her actions would be received despite the physical intimacy he'd established that night, Joss unfolded her legs and hesitantly scooted closer to John until their hips were touching. She felt his sharp intake of breath as she let her arms wrap around him and rested her cheek against his chest. He brought down his arm so that his hand could settle on her hip.

They sat in silence for several minutes before she whispered, "I'm more than capable of doing my job."

"I know."

"I have a gun and I know how to protect myself."

"I know."

"You don't have to watch over me all the time."

"I know."

"But you're going to anyway."

"Until I can't watch over you anymore." He intertwined the fingers of his other hand with hers.

Joss looked down at their hands. The line between them was certainly blurring at an alarming rate, and for some reason she couldn't even fathom, that didn't bother her as much as she always thought it would. At the feeling of his lips gently pressing a kiss into her hair, she sat up a bit so their eyes, surprisingly sheepish and intently searching, could meet.

She had leaned forward to press her lips against his before she even truly realized what she was doing. His lips parted; his tongue darted out to touch hers as the kiss deepened, slow and sensual. It was only once Joss remembered the criminal mastermind in a bedroom nearby that she drew back while still keeping their faces close and never breaking eye contact.

It was almost flattering the way his usually bright blue eyes were darkened with unhidden desire as he gazed at her lips. She smiled, and it was her first real smile since before Cal was killed by HR. "Thank you, John."

He was too focused on the unexpected kiss to smile back. "You're welcome."

"I think I might go to bed now."

"Okay."

Joss stood from the couch and extended a hand toward him. "Join me."

**_You shouldn't have to be alone_**

**_I would rather be alone together_**

**_Be alone together, baby_**

**I guess that would be considered a cliff-hanger but we all know that Reese is going to follow Carter into that bedroom. :-) Please review and leave song suggestions/prompts for future chapters. This is gonna be the way I survive the summer hiatus. **


	9. I Got You

_Everything on her body feeling either sore or dead tired, Joss wearily took her keys to her apartment out of her pocket and opened the door. Despite the fact that Taylor was supposed to be home at least five hours ago, all of the lights were off, causing her to immediately be on her guard as she stepped into her home. "Taylor?" She closed the door behind herself and frowned. "Taylor?"_

_ "He's out."_

_ Joss threw her keys onto the kitchen table and reached for her handgun, aiming it in the direction of the low masculine voice. With her other hand, she reached over to turn on the lights. Her eyes narrowed as she saw John Reese standing by her glass-paned balcony door. He didn't turn to her as he added, "He said he'd be studying with a friend."_

_ She lowered her weapon with a sigh. "Sure, John, come on over. Make yourself at home." _

_ "Finch is gone." Her next cynical comment was replaced by stunned silence. She walked forward, waiting for him to continue. He looked lost and unsure, all emotions that she hadn't associated with the vigilante ever since their first meeting in the 8__th__ precinct a year ago. After a beat of silence, he obliged. "She took him."_

_ "Who...?"_

_ "Turing." John finally turned to face her, although his gaze didn't quite meet hers. "She wasn't a shrink. She was lying to us. Her real name is Root…at least, that's what she goes by."_

_ This Root character went through a lot of trouble to get Finch and John into her trap. The woman established herself as Caroline Turing, a psychologist who counseled many influential patients, used HR for her own purposes, and put a hit on herself. Joss felt anger well up inside of her at the thought of someone taking advantage of their protection in that way. Then, at another thought, she asked, "What could Finch have that Root would want?"_

_ Silence. He turned again to the window. She lowered her eyes to the floor and smirked humorlessly. One day she would ask a question about the inner workings of their guardian-angel operation and get a straight answer. Apparently, this was not that day. "Okay. I can file a Missing Persons report…send Finch's picture to sheriffs' offices, the FBI…"_

_ "You can't." John walked toward her, making eye contact for the first time. "Finch went off the grid for a reason. We have to find him on our own. I have a lead, but I need you chasing down every other angle. When she took Finch, Root killed a former intelligence operative named Alicia Corwin." He pulled out a photograph of the woman and handed it to her. _

_ Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, Joss nodded. "I'll get myself assigned to the investigation." _

_ "Thank you."_

_ When she looked up from the photo, her gaze searched his face. His lost expression had dissipated once he began telling her exactly what he needed, but it was back now, making her want to hold the vigilante until it went away for good. "What are you going to be doing?"_

_ "I'm not sure…Math, I think."_

_ It was her first-ever clue into Finch and John's world, but she barely had time to think about its possible significance before she realized that he was walking past her toward the apartment door. She caught his arm, causing him to look from her hand to her face in confusion. There was a moment where she just looked back at him, not really sure why she had stopped him from going. Finally she whispered, "We're gonna get him back, John."_

_ His gaze slipped from hers as he internalized her words, forced himself to believe them. "Yes."_

_ "And…I don't know where you live…but if you don't want to be alone tonight…" Joss felt her cheeks warm at the implications of what she had just said and quickly continued. "You're welcome to sleep on my couch. Taylor wouldn't mind you being here. In fact, I'm sure he would be overjoyed to see that the man who once rescued him is staying the night."_

_ John lifted his arm from under her grasp and then held her hand in his own. "Thank you but…"_

_ "But you've got work to do. Probably in some godforsaken Batcave, right?"_

_ The corner of his lips turned upward into a wry smile. "Right."_

_ After giving her hand a slight squeeze, he made his way out of her home. She sank down onto her couch and prepared to make a few phone calls. _

* * *

**_A place to crash_**

**_I got you_**

**_No need to ask_**

**_I got you_**

**11:35AM**

"When you realized Finch was gone, you came to my apartment…Why?"

Her voice was so soft that John almost missed that she had said anything at all. Their flight to Texas was nearly over; she'd spent the first few hours silent and idly thumbing through a SkyMall magazine. After a while, the magazine was returned to its place in the back of the seat in front of her, and she was still. He'd assumed that the detective had fallen asleep. Now, he peered down at her, slightly distracted by how the sunlight streaming through the plane's elliptical window made her honey-hued skin glow. "I came to you because I knew you would help."

"Was I the first person you came to?"

"Yes," he answered after a moment's hesitation. Before she could ask another seemingly random question, he continued. "You were the only person I came to."

Sometimes it was frightening how attached he was to the detective. Their connection, while certainly different, was just as strong as the one he had with Finch. It was a connection that kept him watching over her even during those months she was determined to hunt him down. It was a connection that told him that, if he was going to find Finch, the man who gave him a purpose, he was going to need her, the first person to see through the ugliness of his past. Also, without access to the Machine or Finch's surveillance, he would have no way to ensure her safety while he was in Texas. It was best that she was by his side.

Searching for a way to redirect the conversation, John lowered his gaze to look over her clothing. Dark purple shirt. Black vest. Black trousers. "You're gonna burn up in Texas, you know."

Her eyes narrowed at the sudden change of subject and she looked down at herself with a shrug. "You're still in your suit."

"It's like a uniform for me. I'm the Man in the Suit. I wear a suit." He smirked, leaning his head back on his seat's headrest casually. "You should know that, detective. You're the one who gave me the name." She didn't even realize how much influence she had on who he was.

"Well, this is _my_ uniform. Get over it."

He watched her copy his actions and close her eyes; her body relaxed almost instantly. It was impossible to stop staring at her now that she couldn't see that he was doing so. "I just hope you brought a change of clothes. It's supposed to be at least…"

"Shut up, John."

"I'm shutting up, Carter." With one last glance at her, he closed his eyes as well.

* * *

**2:11PM**

As she and John followed the motel manager to their room, Joss became more and more aware that she should really learn to say no to the vigilante's requests. Also, it was really warm. Men were sitting in the motel courtyard, their guns placed haphazardly on the ground and their laps as they watched the three of them walk past. She narrowed her eyes at a particularly rugged man who winked at her and then forced herself to pay attention to what the manager was saying to John.

"You're lucky you called when you did. Deer season just started. We're booked up solid for the week." The man keyed into the room.

Joss's face displayed exactly how she felt about the situation so far. She couldn't even smile gratefully at the manager as she followed John into the room. Wood-paneled walls lent to the room's homey aura; from what she could see, it seemed clean enough. However, her eyes were instantly drawn to the king-size bed that took up the majority of the space. She looked from John to the manager and then scanned the room once more before muttering under her breath, "Oh I don't think so." John was silently looking around the room, doubtless seeking out places to hide various weapons. No help at all. Joss rested a hand on her luggage handle. "We're gonna need another room."

The manager shrugged. " 'Fraid I can't help you there, Mrs. Reese. We've got three RVs backed up in the lot looking for a room with running water."

"Oh, I'm not his…"

"Thanks," John interrupted. "This won't be a problem." Without even bothering to look at Joss to see the glare he could feel being aimed at him, he reached out to take the keycard from the other man. The manager nodded, smiled apologetically at Joss, and left.

Joss waited until the door closed behind him and went to stand on the other side of the bed. "So, what exactly are the sleeping arrangements, _Mr_. Reese?"

"Well, I don't plan on sleeping much, and if I do, the bathtub will…" John's voice trailed off as he looked over his shoulder at the small bathroom and saw the shower. He turned back and blinked. "The floor will be fine. Now let's go down to the police station and get a hold of that case file on Hanna Frey."

She watched him go to the door and held up a hand. "Alright, wait." He stopped and turned back toward her. "Let's set up some ground rules here. _You_ keep a low profile and let _me_ deal with the local law enforcement. Okay?"

Amused by the fact that she already thought he was going to step on her toes, John chuckled, opening the door and motioning for her to lead the way out. "That's why you're here, _Mrs_. Reese."

She resisted the urge to smack him as she passed by.

* * *

**2:39PM**

Oh, Texas was definitely not her favorite state.

Joss begrudgingly made her way back to the station's parking lot where John was waiting for her in their rental car. The lawman of Bishop, an infuriatingly inquisitive Sheriff Landry, refused to give her any information about Hanna Fry's case until she divulged information about the missing person case she claimed to have back in New York. As soon as he offered to call her superior, she knew that the ruse had failed. Of course, John would probably be thrilled that he would get the chance to use his own devices to get the information.

Her eyes widened as she slid into the passenger seat of the car and saw the folder that John was casually leafing through. "What the…? Is that what I think it is?" A photograph of Hanna Frey tucked amidst the papers told her that it was exactly what she thought it was.

He closed the folder and handed it to her. "We do need leads to follow up on."

"I don't know what you just did, John, but this is _not_ the way…"

"There was even a 911 call from someone claiming they saw Hanna getting into the car she was last seen in," he continued, purposely ignoring her objections to his methods. "They gave a plate number too but it didn't check out." He watched her intently scan the documents in the folder. His eyes lingered on her face a little longer than they should have before he looked away. "What do you think?"

She pursed her lips at him, still a bit annoyed at his policy-breaking shenanigans, but answered his question. "I think we start from the beginning. We need to talk to whoever talked to Hanna last."

John nodded. "She's still out there, Carter. I'm telling you, that girl became Root."

* * *

**4:02PM**

When Joss drove up to the Razorback, the local bar where Hanna Frey's father said Cody Grayson, one of his daughter's peers who was the main suspect in the investigation's early days, could be found, she wasn't at all surprised to see the man in question being held by his neck against one of the building's posts by John. Their 'conversation' seemed to be at its end; John didn't seem particularly enthralled by whatever Grayson was telling him.

"Cody Grayson, huh?" John didn't attempt to stop the younger man as he raced away at the sudden appearance of yet another person searching for him. Joss walked around him to peer into the Cody Grayson-sized hole in the Razorback's entrance.

"Thought I'd buy him a round."

She laughed at his dark sense of humor. "Making friends as usual. But you'll never get the truth out of anyone like that."

John followed her back to the car. "Already did."

"Oh, did you?"

"Yeah. He didn't have anything to do with Hanna's disappearance."

"_I_ could've told you that." She reached into the car to grab an envelope sitting on the front seat console and handed it to him. "Looks like you might be right about all of this. It's junk mail with her name on it. I found it in her father's garbage and ran a credit check. There's a bank account that was opened in her name in '93, two years after she disappeared. So either Hanna's communicating from around the grave or…"

"She's still alive." John moved to open the car door but was stopped by Joss moving to stand in the way. "...Is there a problem, Carter?"

She squinted up at him. "You brought me here to Texas so I could help you find your friend, John, and I know you're used to going it alone but we're gonna have to work together if we want to get anything done. I'm not only good for making sure you don't have to interact with law enforcement. I'm a detective. This is what I do every day. If you want to find Finch, you'll let me do my job. If you don't let me do my job, I'll be on the next flight to New York. Understand?" He nodded slowly, and she smiled. "Good. Let's go."

John watched her walk around the car to slide into the passenger seat, something akin to awe shining in his eyes. He opened his car door and got in himself, grinning broadly at the detective. "Did you just read me, Carter?"

She turned to him sharply. "How the hell do you know what it means to read someone, John?"

"Your son."

He started the car, and Joss relaxed back into her seat, crossing her arms against her chest with a frown. "I will never understand why you two still speak to each other."

"Maybe he sees me as a good influence." John chuckled at her groan and the way she rolled her eyes.

"Trust me. That's not it."

* * *

**_What's weird about it_**

**_Is we're right at the end_**

**_Ain't mad about it_**

**_Just figured it out in my head_**

**7:45PM**

"A couple years after Hanna supposedly ran away, she winds up in Lafayette, Louisiana, opens up an account, and puts in a hundred grand which is then withdrawn in cash over the next three weeks until the account is closed." Turning from the mirror where various pieces of information on the case had been taped, Joss faced John.

It was the first time that he had seen the detective out of her usual androgynous professional clothing and he was not dealing with it well. She had changed into a pair of slacks that were made of lighter fabric and were a much better fit across her curvy backside, as well as exchanged her vest and long-sleeved shirt for a blazer over a light blue blouse. When she'd first emerged from the bathroom, he had just smirked knowingly at the fact that she ultimately followed his advice. Now, he couldn't stop staring.

John shifted uncomfortably in his seat on the motel bed, forcing his focus away from her and onto the mirror. "A hundred grand? Where does a sixteen-year old runaway get that kind of money?"

She handed him one of the photos lying on the vanity. "José Berea. He's currently serving seventeen life sentences for drug trafficking and murder. The money was electronically transferred out of his account. You did say this Root woman is good with computers."

"Yes I did." John glanced down at the photo. "But where does that account lead us?"

"It leads us right back here. There was a cosignatory on the account, a guy named…" Joss looked over her shoulder at one of the papers. "Trent Russell. He has a local address here in Bishop."

"Russell. Why does that name sound familiar?"

" 'Cause it _is_ familiar. That name was on the witness list from that night at the library when Hanna disappeared."

He stood from the bed. "Still got that address?" When she nodded, he grabbed the rental's keys. "Let's pay Trent Russell a visit then."

The first several minutes of their drive to the outskirts of the small Texan town was spent in a comfortable silence. Joss stared out of the window at the tranquil night as they passed by ranch home after ranch home. She could admit that Bishop did have a certain amount of charm even if it was a completely different life than she was used to. Still, she missed the city. Her hand itched to pick up her phone, redial Taylor's cell phone number, and nag him about that history report he said he'd already finished when she had called earlier that night. As if she wasn't away from home enough, now she was at least a thousand miles away from her son on what was supposed to be her day off from work.

"Thank you."

Effectively snapped out of her thoughts, Joss blinked and turned to John. "Pardon?"

His grip tightened on the wheel; his eyes, almost grey in the moonlight, darted toward her and then focused back onto the road. "For accompanying me. Thank you."

Another blink. She shrugged. "No problem. I didn't want to sit in the motel room bored to death. There's not even a television in there."

"No, I meant…" John chuckled softly at her misunderstanding. "Thank you for accompanying me to Texas. I appreciate having you here."

"Oh." The corner of her full mouth quirked upward. "You're welcome, John. I know how important Finch is to you."

"And that's enough to make you drop everything back in New York?"

He had asked the question in such a low voice that she immediately wondered if he'd intended to speak it aloud. The way his entire body was tensed told her that he hadn't. She frowned. "Why wouldn't it be enough? He's your friend. Of course I'm gonna help you get him back. After all the times you've had my back, whether I wanted you to or not, I think I owe you one."

His eyebrows furrowed. "So you're just settling a debt."

"No. I'm not _just_ settling a debt." She openly searched his face for the cause of his sudden consternation.

John felt his cheeks warm under her scrutiny but he let his ensuing silence end the conversation. They reached the address for Trent Russell's home five minutes later. Joss was still glancing at him with the same interest as they walked up to the porch. He sighed. "Carter, do you want to ask me something?"

She narrowed her eyes and turned away. "Nope. I'm good."

"Alright then." He motioned for her to knock on the front door, and she raised her fist to give it a few sharp raps.

A woman's voice called out from inside the house, "Who is it?"

Joss took a step forward. "Mrs. Russell, it's Detective Carter. Is your husband home?"

The door swung open to reveal Barbara, the librarian that they had spoken to earlier in the day. John and Joss exchanged looks; Joss turned back to the woman in confusion. "…Mrs. Russell?

The woman nodded, glancing between the two of them anxiously. "Yes?"

"Trent Russell is your husband?" Her question garnered another nod. "Can we speak to him?"

A shadow of grief passed over the librarian's face and she shook her head. "I'm afraid Trent passed away almost fifteen years ago."

"I'm so sorry."

John glanced down at Joss. There was sadness present in her voice, a deep understanding of what the other woman was feeling. He didn't know much about the detective's late husband; admittedly, he found it hard to accept the idea of the presence of any man other than Taylor in her life. But from experiencing the compassion and empathy that Jocelyn Carter so readily displayed for those who needed her help first-hand, he knew that the loss of her husband had shaken her to the core. He'd always felt enormous respect at the fact that she'd lost someone so dear to her and yet come out of the circumstances stronger than ever before.

Barbara Russell had stepped aside to allow them to enter her home. He nodded a greeting to her as he passed over the threshold. A few steps into the house, a shelf with framed photographs caught his eye. He took one and tilted it so she could see it, a silent request for information.

She gave a wistful smile at the picture of her younger self and Trent holding hands outside of their new home. "We were only married a few years. Met at the library actually. Trent was a member of the monthly book club. That man loved Stephen King, Mario Puzo..." Barbara walked over to a nearby chair and stood with her hands resting on its headrest. "I miss him so much."

Joss tilted her head to the side. "How did he die?"

The older woman closed her eyes tightly as if shutting out a vivid memory of the past. "It was awful. He was attacked. Shot to death in what the police said was a drug killing by some trash from over the border. They never caught the men who did it."

"Trent was a bank loan officer. Is there any chance that he got caught up in some money laundering?"

"No, he was a good man. It was just a case of mistaken identity. I'm sure of that."

Finishing his quick but thorough examination of the room, John came to stand beside Joss. "How long did he know Hanna Fry?"

"Hanna…He…He _didn't_ know her," Barbara stammered. John walked past her further into the house. "Where are you going? What are you…?"

"How do you explain this, Mrs. Russell?" Joss held out a paper toward her. "Your husband signed for a bank account in her name two years after Hanna disappeared."

Barbara scanned over the document, dismay clear on her face. "I never even saw Trent talk to Hanna. Not even once. This is some kind of mistake."

Folding the paper again and returning it to her blazer pocket, Joss gave a sardonic smile. "A mistake, huh? Just like his murder. Do you mind if we take a look around the house?"

"Yes I do mind." Barbara stepped forward as Joss walked past her. "You need to leave now!"

At the sound of John calling her name, the detective made her way outside. She found him inside the garage staring down at car that looked like it had been out of commission for at least a decade. "What'd you find?"

"The 911 call from the witness who saw Hanna get into the car…there was a license plate number, wasn't there?"

"Yeah, there was." Joss opened up the case folder and quickly found the transcript. After briefly scanning it, she nodded. "925-ESK."

John looked at the old car's license plate. "925-E_F_K. The caller got one digit wrong."

"So are we saying that this is the car? You think Trent Russell kidnapped Hanna Fry?"

"Maybe Russell took her but she escaped. Maybe she got her revenge years later." Not following John's line of thinking, Joss frowned. He explained, "The bank account in Russell's name is how Root set him up. She stole a hundred grand from José Berea, and when the drug dealer found out, the person he went after was Russell. Even if Russell denied it, Berea and his men wouldn't have listened. The only other name on the account is that of a girl who's been dead for two years."

"The man who kidnapped Hanna gets shot down in a parking lot." Joss sighed. "Guess that's Root's idea of justice."

And if that was her idea of justice, who knew what Finch was going through at her hands? John looked at Barbara Russell; she was staring out at them from the screen door. "We need to search the house."

Joss closed the case folder and tucked it under her arm. "We need to call the sheriff."

"The incompetent sheriff? He wouldn't even give you information on Hanna's case and now we've practically solved it for him."

"He's not my favorite guy in the world, but we still need to involve him." Joss fixed him with a resolute gaze. "We've got to do this the right way, John."

He looked down at her in silence for a moment and then walked past her back into the house. "Mrs. Russell, call the sheriff. Tell him he's gonna want to get over here."

_**I'm proud to say **_

_**I got you**_

**8:45PM**

"_Flowers for Algernon_." One by one, Joss placed the books that she held in her arms, onto the small kitchen table where Barbara Russell sat, head bowed. "You had sixteen copies hidden on the bookshelf in your bedroom. Where'd you get them?"

The woman looked up at her with a sigh. "They just come. Every year. Every year on the same date."

Sitting beside her for support, Sheriff Landry glanced between the detective, the mysterious man in the suit who hadn't said a word since he'd arrived, and Barbara. "What date would that be?"

John spoke up from where he stood, leaning against the kitchen counter. "April 15th. The day Hanna disappeared."

Barbara nodded. "They arrive from all over the country. No note. No sender. Someone just wants to be cruel."

Glancing down at the stack of books that he'd brought in from the bedroom and placed near the kitchen sink, John noticed a bookmark peeking out from between one of the book's pages. When he pulled it out, he saw that there was a receipt sticker attached to the back of it. "Carter. Look at this." Joss came to stand beside him; he handed her the bookmark. "The most recent book had this in it. I'll head back to the motel, make a call to the Seattle bookstore, and see if I can't find out who made the purchase."

She raised an eyebrow. "And why would they tell you that information?"

He took the bookmark from her and shrugged. "I'm sure I can make something up."

Joss glanced at the other two people in the room, lowering her voice so that they could not hear her. "You're gonna impersonate a federal law enforcement agent, aren't you?"

"Oh, you think that would work? I'll give it a shot. Thanks for the idea, Carter."

This man was infuriating. Fighting the urge to say something to him that would eliminate all sense of professionalism in front of the sheriff and Mrs. Russell, Joss leaned back against the counter and stifled her exasperated groan. "So while you're illegally obtaining information, I'm just supposed to...?"

"Stay here." He glanced at Barbara. "She's not done talking yet. See you back at the motel. Keep me posted."

She watched him slip out of the house without another word, turning her attention back to the kitchen table. "Sheriff Landry, I think it's time you played for Mrs. Russell the 911 call from the night Hanna disappeared."

* * *

"Barb." The sheriff stood from the table and took a few steps away, rubbing a hand across his forehead as if wiping away the memory of what had just been said. "Why didn't you tell anyone that Sam Groves told you about the car Hanna got into? This case could've been solved _years_ ago!"

Joss folded her arms against her chest; her eyes knowingly peered into Mrs. Russell's shame-filled face. "She stayed quiet because Sam Groves didn't just see the car. She saw who was _in_ the car. Am I right?"

Tears welled up in Barbara's eyes. "She said she thought it was Mr. Russell. I...I told her she was a nasty, attention-seeking brat and that I couldn't believe she would say such horrible things about a man who'd given so much to the people of this town. Then...I told Sam to keep her lying mouth shut."

"Why?" Joss asked, knowing good and well what the answer would be.

Barbara stood and wearily walked past the sheriff toward the nearby windows. "I loved Trent Russell. And I couldn't believe he could do such a thing."

"What do you believe now?" The other woman stayed silent, sadness shrouding her as she stared out of the window. Joss glanced at the sheriff and went to stand beside her. They were looking out onto a plain concrete patio. The lack of décor showed that it wasn't in frequent use.

"He redid the patio two weeks after Hanna disappeared." The woman's voice was flat, emotionless, a direct contradiction to the guilt on her face when she turned back to the sheriff and detective. "I think she might be underneath."

Sheriff Landry reached for his phone with shaking hands, clearly in shock at the horrible implications of her words. While he stepped out of the room to call for a team to dig up the patio, Joss stayed by Barbara's side, silently looking out at what could possibly be the impromptu gravesite for an innocent girl.

Barbara raised a hand to lay flat against the window pane. "You must think I'm a monster, Detective Carter. All this time...I should've said what I knew...I should've said what I _thought_ I knew. What happened to Hanna has haunted this town for so many years and..." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I could've prevented so much pain."

Joss resisted the urge to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You and Trent Russell got married after Hanna disappeared, Mrs. Russell. Even after what Sam Groves told you. Why? Why would you marry him?"

"I loved him, detective." Barbara opened her eyes and saw the disbelief that was written all over Joss's face. "Sometimes...even when you exactly what kind of person you're falling in love with, you just can't catch yourself in time. You fall _so_ hard despite everything you know." Joss turned away, and Barbara nodded at her silence. "I know that might be impossible to understand but..."

"It's not." Joss met her questioning gaze and then turned to walk away. "It's not impossible to understand at all."

* * *

**_'Cause this is love and life_**

**_And nothing we can both control_**

**_And if it don't feel right _**

**_You're not losing me by letting me know_**

**1:39AM**

Joss opened the door to the motel room and paused. "Why is there a crossbow on the bed?"

John looked up from the paper detailing Root's latest bank account transfer, slowly taking in the sight of her. "It's a long story but we're friends now. Carter, you need to get some sleep."

"Thank you for that observation, John. I plan to." She removed the weapon, leaning it against the wall near the door. "These friends of yours, did they also lend you that laptop over there?"

"They'll get it back as soon as we're done with it. I promise." He motioned for her to sit beside him on the edge of the bed. "I called the Seattle bookstore to find the buyer of the most recent _Flowers for Algernon_ that was sent to Barbara Russell. Of course, Root used another one of her aliases to make the transaction but I did find out that the money transferred over to the bookstore to pay for the book came from an account at this bank. Unfortunately..."

"The bank is closed."

"Exactly." He let out a short, frustrated breath. "We're at a stand-still until tomorrow morning." Joss nodded, barely looking at the information he had been pointing out to her. John cleared his throat. "I'm assuming you found out more information than I did."

She nodded again. "You were right about Trent Russell's murder being someone's way of getting revenge for what happened to Hanna. But, John, that someone is not Hanna. She never did get away from Russell that night he picked her up from the library. We just exhumed the body from under Barbara Russell's back patio."

That would put them right back at square one in the case. He tried to stay calm despite the mounting frustration and panic he felt. The longer they spent trying to solve this mystery, the longer Finch was at Root's mercy. "Then who did this? Who sent the books? Who went through all that trouble to make sure Russell would be killed?"

Joss opened the Hanna Fry case file and removed one of the few photographs they had of the girl. "Her father gave it to me back when we were at his house. The blonde girl next to Hanna is Sam Groves. She saw Hanna get into Trent Russell's car and _she's_ the mystery caller from the 911 transcript. From what I've heard, she was a troubled child. No one would listen to her."

"Where is she now?"

"Sam left town ten years ago when her mother passed away and was never heard from again." Joss looked down at the photograph and attempted to make the image of a smiling Hanna Fry replace the image she had in her mind of the girl's decaying bones lying in the dirt behind the Russell home. "If anybody's Root, it's gotta be her."

* * *

**2:20AM**

"We are two professionals who just happen to be sharing a bed, Carter. Don't be so tense."

With a huff, Joss flipped over so that she could glare at John in the darkness. "I'm lying beside a man who I spent the better part of a year hunting down so I could throw his ass in jail. I think any tension you're sensing from me is more than a little justified."

"I suppose I can see your point." It wasn't exactly a situation he'd ever thought they would be in either. He could only imagine the crude jokes Lionel would tell if the detective ever found out that his partner and her Man in the Suit were forced to sleep side-by-side in some Texas motel. Still, at least for him, it wasn't an unpleasant experience. She had refused to go to bed without first showering-he had already washed up long before she'd returned from Barbara Russell's home-and now her jasmine scent wafted over him. It was an almost comforting smell although he couldn't exactly pinpoint why it was having that effect.

She maneuvered once more to lie on her back. He watched as she lifted a hand to adjust the black silk wrap that covered her hair; there was something almost hesitant and self-conscious about her movements. It was such a contrast to her usual confidence. But then, it had probably been a while since any man saw her this way. There was an endearing vulnerability about her now. "So, do you wear that every night or...?

"John. Don't ask me hair questions. Let's just go to sleep."

"Okay."

She could hear the laughter in his voice. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. I..." He turned his face toward her completely and allowed his gaze to slowly travel over her face and bare arms, revealed by the simple gray camisole that she wore to bed. The moonlight streaming in through the room's thin curtains made her seem almost ethereal lying beside him; the dark pools of her eyes regarding him guardedly. "I like seeing you this way."

"_What_ way?"

It was probably best not to answer that. John moved his gaze upwards, staring at the ceiling in an attempt to stop staring at her. He could feel himself slipping into dangerous territory. Joss Carter was a woman who had gotten under his skin and past the walls that he'd erected to protect himself the very first time he'd laid eyes on her. He kept pulling her into his life despite the fact that it would be best if she remained at arms-length. All because he needed her there. What better place for his moral compass to be than by his side? What better place for the woman he was falling in love with than by his side? He blinked, quickly brushing aside that last thought. That was dangerous territory indeed.

It was too warm for them to be underneath the bed's comforter; John had folded it back toward the foot of the bed. Joss pulled absently at the light sheet that covered them. "So, why me?"

He had initially released a relieved breath at the fact that she hadn't pressed him on her previous question. Now, he frowned at the way she was worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "I thought you wanted to get to sleep, Carter. Let's sleep."

"You don't answer many of my questions, John, but for God's sake, answer this one. Why me? You were seeking me out at the same time I was looking for you. I know that you followed me case to case; I'll never forget how you gift-wrapped several of my perps for me...why didn't you just get rid of me when I started to get in your way? That's what Elias and HR tried to do. You could've succeeded." She gripped a handful of bedsheet. "When I think about all the horrible things I believed about you..."

"Do you think I should have killed you?" Raising himself up on his elbows, John looked down at her in disbelief. "Trust me, Joss...most of those horrible things Mark told you were true about me at one point or another. You did what you thought was right. I couldn't fault you for that."

"You could've stopped at forgiving me instead of bringing me into your little group. Fusco had been working with you for months by that time. I wasn't even necessary as an asset to you and Finch, and I'm not _that_ necessary now either." Her eyes sparkled with mirth as she imagined the sneaky way he must have gotten Hanna Fry's case file from the Bishop police station earlier that day. "As much as I disapprove of them, you already have your special methods of working with law enforcement."

"So maybe you're not just an asset to me."

Joss snorted. "What else could I be?" She watched as he laid back down and fixed his gaze again on the ceiling, her brows furrowing at his silence. "...John?"

Those expressive silver-in-the-moonlight eyes met hers; a slow smile appeared across his lips. "To be honest with you, Joss...I don't think either of us are quite ready for the answer to that question."

She held his gaze longer than was comfortable, allowing the meaning of his words sink in. "Oh."

"Yeah. So let's get some sleep."

"Agreed." She still hadn't looked away. Joss finally blinked; her cheeks felt as though they were on fire. "Good night."

He turned his face toward the ceiling and closed his eyes. "Good night."

* * *

_**For better or worse**_

_**I got you**_

**7****:13AM**

Joss shrugged on her blazer over a scarlet sleeveless top and came out of the bathroom. Glancing at John where he sat on the bed, phone held to his ear, she stood in front of the mirror to look over all of the pieces of information they had collected so far. The fact that he was on the phone with the fifth bank he'd called that morning was a testimony to Root's thoroughness. Her many accounts and aliases made a convoluted trail for them to follow.

He ended the phone call and stood, going toward the mirror to begin taking down the many papers there. "Good news. The bank didn't lead us to another bank this time. It leads to a credit union service. Turns out Root used a credit card under the name of Dyson at a gas station in Maryland a few hours ago."

Fortunately there wasn't much to pack. Joss went back into the bathroom to grab her body wash, toothbrush, and toothpaste, quickly throwing them into her luggage. "Do we have a more specific location than the entire state of Maryland?"

"City of Relton." He paused for a moment. "You know, Carter, you don't have to come with me. You said you'd help me find Root and now we've found Root. I can pay for your ticket back to New York if you..."

She raised an eyebrow. "Hand me the laptop so I can look for a flight out of here." John passed it to her and she sat on the bed. "We're going to Maryland. Both of us. I said that I'd help you find Finch, and we haven't found him yet." He started to speak but was silenced by the warning look she gave him.

* * *

**5:33PM**

_"Carter! I've been trying to reach you for hours."_

It was almost nice to hear her partner's gruff voice in her ear. Joss watched over John's shoulder as he reviewed surveillance of Root from around 4 o'clock that morning. "We just arrived at the gas station in Relton, Maryland. Have you got something for us, Fusco?"

_"The broad who kidnapped our four-eyed friend is also after a missing guy by the name of Denton Weeks. He's in the same kind of business as Alicia Corwin. The feds have been flying in and out of the precinct. They're trying to track him down."_

"Do you know where they're looking?" She would have to talk to him later about calling women 'broads'.

_"Apparently he's got a girlfriend with a cottage outside of DC. All I've got is a name. Julie Davenport."_

Joss glanced up at John when he turned to her after thanking the gas station's manager. "Fusco, do me a favor and search all properties in Relton under that name. I've got a feeling that's where Miss Root would've taken Finch and ambushed Weeks."

_"I'm on it."_

Holding the phone away from her ear, Joss addressed John. "Looks like Finch isn't the only one Root kidnapped. Denton Weeks went missing yesterday. Fusco's looking up the address for his girlfriend's love shack."

John nodded curtly. "Kidnapping and transporting both Finch and Weeks wouldn't be in her best interests. She'll want to get rid of at least one of them before moving anywhere else. We need that address. Now."

_"Carter?"_

"I'm still here, Fusco."

_"809 Nightingale Drive."_

She motioned for John to follow her out of the gas station. "Stay on the line and guide us there."

* * *

**5:55PM**

Finch had left a cufflink in Julie Davenport's cottage to assure John that he was on the right track and a tap code on the screen of a disconnected phone to direct them to the nearby train station. Tap code. It had been a while since she'd seen anyone use it; however, it didn't take much time to decipher. Heart pounding as she ran beside John through the parking lot and toward the station's entrance, Joss couldn't help but feel in awe of the two men's friendship. Of course they'd probably never admit it directly, but there was love there and a determination to save each other no matter what.

John placed a hand on her arm to slow her down as they entered the station. The last thing they wanted to do was cause a scene and spook Root before they got eyes on Finch. Standing side by side, they scanned the area, taking in each and every person's face. John's hand fell again to his side, and he whispered, "C'mon, Finch. Where the hell are you?"

As soon as his hand left her arm, Joss's hand was on his. Her gaze had been attracted by a slow movement in the corner of her eye; she looked over to see a wheelchair-bound Finch cautiously move back so that their view of him was no longer blocked by a large granite pillar. Now, she subtly pointed him out to John.

John's gaze traveled from Finch's calm face to Root. She was being approached by a friendly, smiling station worker, but her hand was inching into the bag slung across her shoulder.

Joss took a reflexive step forward. "John, she's about to pull out a gun."

They both raised their weapons at the same time that Root aimed her diminutive pistol at the worker's chest. Finch threw himself out of the wheelchair and into her side just as the pistol fired. Root stumbled forward, barely catching herself before she fell flat on the floor beside Finch. Her surprised eyes sought out John barreling toward her for a brief second before she started running toward the nearest exit. Joss jabbed a finger in Finch's direction. "Make sure he's alright!"

John nodded, stopping short to fall to his knees beside his friend while she chased after Root.

_**A place to crash**_

_**I got you**_

_**No need to ask **_

_**I got you**_

* * *

**The Library**

**8:48PM**

Finch's usual slow pace was even more guarded as he and John walked further into the Library. He let his eyes sweep over the familiar surroundings; he felt himself begin to breathe-truly breathe-for the first time since Root had shot Alicia Corwin point-blank in his car. It would probably take some time before he felt safe, but he did relish the peace he was beginning to feel.

A sudden movement in the shadows toward the far corner of the room made him take a staggering step backwards. His eyes widened as a dog trotted toward them, then narrowed as he noticed what the canine had in its mouth. It came to sit on its haunches directly in front of him, staring at him in eager anticipation.

John came to stand beside him. "Harold, meet Bear. Unfortunately, my apartment has a strict policy regarding dogs."

"I have a strict policy regarding rare first editions." Harold tried to stay calm as he noted the obvious chew marks marring the book's binding. "Namely, don't eat them."

John gave a short command in Dutch, and Bear immediately opened his jaws so that the book fell to the floor. Harold bent to retrieve it, noting the book's identity with a wince. "Asimov. He has expensive taste." The dog looked up at him with something akin to a smile. "I'm sure we'll get along."

Grinning, John began to walk forward. "Mr. Reese," Harold called out. When John turned, he swallowed and tucked the book underneath his arm. "Mr. Reese, I owe you a debt."

John's response was interrupted by his phone ringing. He saw that it was an unknown caller and brought the phone up to his ear, not bothering with a greeting.

_"Is this a bad time, John?"_

Root's disarmingly sweet voice wasn't unexpected, but it made him tense and immediately angle his body away from Harold as if somehow protecting the older man from even the sound of it.

Root continued despite the fact that John still hadn't spoken. _"I wanted to thank you...for finding my friend Hanna. Your friend Detective Carter gave her a proper burial. Tell her I'm sorry I shot at her earlier today. I didn't know what she had done."_

The thought that Carter was now on the radar of such a deranged woman made John's heart painfully skip a beat. He lowered his voice until it was practically a growl, "Come near any of us, and you will be sorry. I will _make_ you sorry."

_"I don't think so." _There was a pause. _"Tell Harold I'll be in touch when I'm ready." _

He closed his eyes at the sound of her ending the call, waiting a beat before turning to face Harold. The other man's eyes were filled with fear. "Is she...?"

"No." John motioned for him to take his usual seat in front of the computer monitors. "You'll never see her again."

Harold nodded, although the apprehension remained. Something told him that Root hadn't left his life just yet.

* * *

**3001 E. 5th Street, Apt 2A**

**10:12PM**

"I'm gonna assume that you're sitting there watching television because your homework is all done, Tay."

Taylor glanced over his shoulder at his mother; she pursed her lips at him and began making herself a cup of coffee. For as long as he could remember, she had drunk coffee after dinner. Her reasoning was that it put her to sleep, but he knew she'd be up long after he called it a night. He nodded. "I finished my Sociology paper. I'll have to ask my teacher tomorrow for some help finishing my Pre-Calc homework."

Joss sighed. "Sorry I can't be more help in that department."

"It's okay, Mom. If I had to choose between having a badass mom and a mom who can help me with math..."

"Watch your language, Taylor."

"I'd still choose you."

With a smile, she turned to pull down her favorite mug from a nearby cabinet with her good arm, pausing with a frown as a knock sounded on their apartment door. "You're not expecting someone, were you?"

"Nah." Taylor was up and looking out of the peephole before she could even go to grab her service weapon. After a short moment, he turned to her and grinned. "Calm down, Mom. It's the other badass in my life."

She raised an eyebrow and nodded for him to open the door, which he did eagerly. "Hey John."

Hearing the vigilante's name come so casually from her son's mouth was surreal. Seeing John smile so easily at her son was even more bizarre. "Taylor, is your mom already asleep or...?" His gaze traveled past Taylor and landed on her. "Carter."

"Give us a moment, Tay."

"Sure." Taylor gave John a small wave and disappeared further into the apartment.

Joss waited until she heard the click of his bedroom door closing before asking, "Is everything okay? How's Finch?"

"Everything's fine. Finch..." John placed his hands into his suit jacket pockets. "Finch will be fine." He glanced at her left arm. "How's your...?"

She shrugged. "Root just grazed me. It'll be fine. Tried to keep it from Taylor but he figured it out. Says it just makes me more badass. I think that's his favorite word right now."

He glanced fondly in the direction of Taylor's room. "Well, I have to agree with your son, Carter. That word describes you pretty well."

"I'll take that as a huge compliment since it's coming from you." Walking back into the kitchen, she poured her coffee. "I'm glad you finally learned how to visit my apartment without breaking in, but I'm a little confused as to why you're here if everything's alright."

He watched her close her eyes and savor the taste of a good cup of coffee. "I wanted to thank you."

"You've already done that, John."

"And I'm doing it again. I couldn't have found Finch without you." She lowered the mug, and John averted his eyes as her tongue darted out over her top lip. "Also...Root called. She apologized for shooting at you."

"You know what? I'm convinced that there's a sweetheart underneath all that crazy."

"Don't be so sure." He took a seat at the kitchen table. "Whatever her intentions are, I'm sure they're anything but noble, and I'm positive that she'll be back for Finch."

Joss didn't look at all worried. "Let her come back. We'll be waiting for her. She's not taking him again."

Once Detective Jocelyn Carter decided to protect someone, they certainly were protected. John smiled at the fierce glint that had appeared in her eyes. "Thanks for your support."

"Stop thanking me."

"Stop doing and saying things that deserve my gratitude."

She didn't even try to stifle her loud bark of laughter. "I'll do my best." A sudden thought occurred to her, and she straightened from leaning back against her kitchen counter. "You did some fancy math to get Finch back, right? Are you any good at it? Math, I mean."

John shrugged. "I've never been particularly _bad_ at it."

"And after today, I guess we could say that you owe me one, right?"

He chuckled. "Where are you going with this, Carter?"

She winked at him, set her coffee mug to the counter, and went to get Taylor. It looked like her son just got himself a math tutor.

**_I'm proud to say_**

**_I got you_**

**Please review and leave suggestions for future one-shots! The scenarios can be within the show's canon (like this one) or even AU! Also, they don't only have to be about Carter and Reese. :-) Thank you for reading! **


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